


Play the heavens with the devil’s dice

by IcyLady



Category: K (Anime)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Gen, new king
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-10-18
Updated: 2018-03-24
Packaged: 2019-01-19 04:09:33
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 21
Words: 60,477
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/12402690
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/IcyLady/pseuds/IcyLady
Summary: In which Yashiro Isana does not come right on time to save Kuroh from Yukari (but Yukari decides, last second, to kidnap rather than kill), the Dresden Slate does not like to leave vacant positions and things turn out quite differently than in the “Return of Kings”.





	1. Chapter 1

**Play the heavens with the devil’s dice**

**Chapter 1**

The video feed was cut, leaving the spacious office, decorated tastefully in blue, silent. Reisi Munakata, the captain of a special police force, Sceptre 4, drummed his fingers on his desk. His lips pressed into thin line, well aware that his reaction was carefully observed by his second- and third-in-command. Sooner or later, he would have to express his opinion, but what was there to say? The fight was as long and violent as it was impressive to watch, but that was to be expected between those opponents. The outcome - he wished he could say he was surprised, but it was to be expected, all things considered. Of course, there has been one way it could have ended differently:

 

‘The Silver King didn’t show up,’ he half-stated, half-asked. Provoking the elusive, First King to finally reappear up might have very well been the reason for the attack, no matter what the sparkly Green clansman said out loud.

 

‘We saw no sign of the Silver King,’ Saruhiko Fushimi, the third-in-command of Sceptre 4, replied diplomatically. Munakata propped his chin on his hands, elbows on the table, watching the still picture of a hysterical, young woman, as though it would give him answers.

 

Perhaps they have all been wrong in reading the Silver King, he thought. He was sure the man would have turned up to aid his faithful swordsman.

 

‘What about the Strain?’ he asked out loud. Fushimi restarted the video in fast forward. The young woman cried a bit and ran in circles, before taking off towards the mainland. Different cameras throughout the Shizume City followed her until the HOMRA home base.

 

‘We should have taken them into custody when it became obvious that the Silver King has disappeared in that incident,’ Seri Awashima, Sceptre 4’s second-in-command, commented quietly. Managing clansmen without a King was well within their responsibilities, so they had a good excuse.

 

Munakata didn’t look away from the screen, now paused on the closing door of Izumo Kusanagi’s bar. Surprisingly, HOMRA still didn’t realize there was a municipal camera aimed straight at their bar, but this wasn’t the time to discuss it.

 

‘Did we manage to follow Mishakuji?’ he asked instead, rather than acknowledging Awashima’s statement. They all knew the Silver clansmen wouldn’t have taken kindly to being forcefully protected by the Blue King. Plus, the Gold King seemed to have backed them up, giving them the place to stay on the island, in the Ashinaka High School, while they awaited the return of their King.

 

Of course, the Gold King was now gone for quite a while. And his choices led to this confusing situation.

 

Wordlessly, Fushimi changed the screen to a blurred picture of Green clansman Yukari Mishakuji, carrying away an unconscious Kuroh Yatogami, drawing quite a few glances from the random passers-by. A few more pictures followed, from different cameras.

 

‘That’s it,’ Fushimi said, sounding thoroughly displeased. ‘He was going towards the centre of Shizume. Our best guess is that he ducked into one of the smaller streets near the department store and into some secret passageway or safe house. We know nothing about Jungle’s operation base.’

 

Still no luck hacking in, Munakata translated and nodded slowly.

 

‘Let us assume they wanted to drag the Silver King from his high skies, figuratively speaking,’ he said, leaning back in his armchair. ‘Or verifying that he has given up on participating in whatever unfolds,’ he added after a pause.

 

‘It seems like the latter is true,’ Awashima pointed out. ‘If the Silver King didn’t move to save his clansman then what would make him move?’ she asked. Indeed: what?

 

‘Or he believes the Black Dog can fend for himself,’ Fushimi suggested, but didn’t sound convinced by his words. The very video they have watched was a proof he couldn’t, although admittedly Yukari Mishakuji might have been the first clansman who could win against the Black Dog. Besides, he came very close to delivering the fatal blow and the Silver King, as far as they knew, did not have teleportation powers. If he has hoped to intervene, he couldn’t have planned to show up in the last minute. And if he has started his approach, why would he let his precious friend be abducted? The Green clan could have nothing pleasant in mind after all.

 

Of course there was a possibility that the Silver King was not looking and didn’t even know. Perhaps the mere mortals he has met were not important enough precious friends. Or his life has run out despite his proud claims of immortality. Neither was a pleasant option, considering the desperation with which Yatogami and the cat woman searched for their king.

 

‘We’re still on a lookout for any sign of the Silver King, just in case he has meant to come but showed up late, but it doesn’t seem to be the case,’ Fushimi added. Munakata sighed.

 

‘So the Silver King has chosen to stay away,’ he stated. ‘The Gold King has gone as well, leaving me and Anna Kushina to deal with Nagare Hisui. Awashima: go visit your friendly barman. Try to see if the cat woman has anything to add about the situation and gauge the possibility of any sort of truce between Sceptre 4 and HOMRA. We can hardly tackle the Jungle if we’re involved in those childish spats.’

 

‘Yes sir,’ Awashima said primly, saluted and left. Munakata waited till the door closed behind her.

 

‘Good work, Fushimi,’ he said and paused with some hesitation. ‘Take some time off, play a game,’ he added eventually. The minute widening of Fushimi’s eyes told him that he understood the message.

 

‘Sir,’ he replied.

 

‘Nothing extreme for the moment and make sure to keep yourself safe,’ Munakata added. Fushimi opened his mouth to answer, but no words came: a sharp knock on the door interrupted them. Three seconds later, Awashima was back and Munakata internally congratulated himself for not flinching or showing that his heart was racing at the very thought that his secret plan would be uncovered.

 

‘I forgot to say, sir, but you have the meeting with that student in the Mihashira Tower,’ his second in command said in a rush. ‘I am really sorry. You should leave right about now, to be on time, sir.’

 

Munakata suppressed a groan.

 

Another of the Gold King’s fancies he had to deal with, he thought even as he got up, pushing the armchair backwards. He glanced at his third in command and a thought struck him: giving the man a boring mission could make what might have to happen later more believable.

 

‘Fushimi, you’re coming with me,’ he said sternly. ‘Awashima, go and have a drink,’ he added, repeating his order for her. She tried very hard to not smile as she saluted sharply and left.

 

‘What am-’

 

‘I’ll explain on the way,’ he cut Fushimi’s question short. At that, his third in command followed without any further hesitation and didn’t speak again until they were in the car.

 

‘What is a student doing in the Mihashira Tower?’ he asked then, probably because Munakata had yet to speak up and explain the situation. The captain sighed tiredly: he wondered that himself, ever since hearing about the graduation project the Gold King has approved just before disappearing.

 

‘She will be studying the script on the Dresden Slate,’ he stated in the calmest and most self-assured way he could manage. Internally, he enjoyed the shocked expression on Fushimi’s face, probably more than he should, since it changed so much from the usual, bored look. ‘It is something sanctioned by the Gold King. According to the official documents, he thought that perhaps acquiring a better understanding on what the symbols mean would lead to better control over the Slates, or maybe even enable us to manipulate it.’

 

‘Allowing a civilian to even know about the Slate is highly unorthodox,’ Fushimi complained, but all that Munakata needed to say was that all HOMRA members were civilians in just about every meaning of the word. As usual, talking about Fushimi’s previous clan shut him up efficiently, although Munakata wasn’t sure if it was because he was somewhat ashamed of his betrayal or angry that he has ever joined the Red clan.

 

‘She seems to be a really talented student at the University of Tokyo and has already tried to decipher parts of the script on the Slate, apparently without knowing what it was she was working on. She has come up with some interesting theories, which do not sound completely unbelievable, so her professor, an acquaintance of the Gold King himself, has decided to appoint her graduation project on the translation of the Slate,’ he explained.

 

‘So it is true that there are no documents explaining why the Slate does what it does?’ Fushimi asked.

 

‘The documents are incomplete,’ Munakata corrected. ‘We know a lot, but there exists no direct explanation of the scripture. I highly doubt that a graduate student will be able to decipher it, but the Gold King is willing to try.’

 

‘The Gold King is not here,’ Fushimi pointed out in a flat tone.

 

‘Indeed,’ Munakata agreed. Instead of continuing the conversation, he took out his PDA and forwarded the young woman’s file to Fushimi. Silently, he watched his third-in-command open the file and wince slightly.

 

‘Her name reads like a beginning of a cheesy haiku,’ he muttered with distaste. Munakata smiled, amused, lowering his head slightly as though he wanted to hide his reaction. Fushimi didn’t look up, quickly reading through the file, face impassive. When he was done, he only acknowledged that her university results did look impressive and that was the end of the topic.

 

The car slowed and came to a stop right in front of the entrance to the tower and they got out without hesitation. Munakata supposed that Fushimi shared his opinion on the situation: the faster they did it, the sooner the student would be gone and they could go about their real work. Admittedly, his officer was in for a surprise.

 

Spotting the student was easy. The only civilian near the door, the young woman stood out in her black suit. She turned to look at them as soon as the car arrived. She looked a little bit older than on the photo that came with her university file and somewhat nervous, but that was to be expected. The hair that was shoulder-long and ultra-straight on the photo was somewhat longer, the ends curled in seemingly random directions.

 

‘Captain Munakata, it is an honour to meet you,’ she spoke as soon as Munakata was close enough to hear her over the sounds of the city. She bowed deeply, the large, rectangular bag she was carrying almost falling off her shoulder, together with her handbag.

 

‘Miss Ueno, I presume,’ he replied, inclining his head when she straightened up. ‘This is Saruhiko Fushimi, my third-in-command,’ he introduced.

 

‘It is a pleasure to meet you, Mr Fushimi. My name is Mai Ueno. I am a graduate student at the University of Tokyo,’ the student replied, seemingly undeterred by Fushimi’s lack of enthusiasm or even acknowledgement of her presence. She looked back at Munakata. ‘I am deeply honoured to have the possibility to study the Slate directly,’ she said.

 

‘I will be frank with you: it is only possible because of the connections your professor has,’ he replied coldly. The student seemed to falter for a split of a second, but she pulled herself together marvellously. Even Munakata had to admit it, despite wanting to see this whole assignment as nothing more than an annoyance and an unreasonable fancy of the Gold King.

 

Because to acknowledge, even in the privacy of his own thoughts, that understanding the Slate could help him was allowing for hope such understanding could be gained. And it was more than doubtful a single graduate student could do that.

 

‘Of course,’ the woman replied. ‘I will work hard to not disappoint your expectations and prove that the trust bestowed upon me was not misplaced,’ she added and Munakata had to consciously keep himself from reacting.

 

Has anybody mentioned anything about trust? Surely, she simply meant the non-existent “trust” that she solves the mystery, rather than trust she will know to keep the existence and location of Slate secret, as well as any findings and theories she might produce.

 

‘Well, let’s not waste time,’ he said, forcing himself to not sigh tiredly. He could at least afford the minimum politeness, couldn’t he? He gestured towards the entrance and the student followed him inside the Mihashira Tower.

 

‘For security reasons, you will not be given personal entrance, but will rather be escorted in and out of the tower, always accompanied by an officer of Sceptre 4,’ he said in a monotone as they walked towards the lift. The student nodded. ‘For the same reasons, all the notes and replicas of the Dresden Slate you make will need to remain in the Tower until they have been read and approved by me in person. An officer will be available around the clock for your convenience. Under normal circumstances, you will have access the tower whenever you need to, for however long it takes to complete your project, until the deadline.'

 

Another nod. Good, she wasn’t one to speak needlessly.

 

‘I will discuss the manner of disclosure of your report with your professor, but I expect it to remain a top secret document, regardless of your success in deciphering of the Slate,’ he added, this time glancing to see the reaction of the student.

 

‘I am aware of that,’ she said.

 

‘Finally, there might be cases of emergency when you will be denied access to the tower with no advance notice. The safety of the Slate is the ultimate priority of Sceptre 4,’ he finished, right as the lift arrived.

 

‘Of course,’ the student acknowledged. Briefly, Munakata wondered if she knew what the Slate was and what it did. He would have to have the officer assigned to her supervision get that info out of the student somehow.

 

How troublesome, he thought.

 

They rode the lift in silence. Once up in the Slate chamber, the student all but ignored them, immediately focusing on the huge slab of stone. She pulled her hair back, into a messy ponytail. She took out a large block of paper from her rectangular bag and fished out pencils from her handbag, immediately starting to sketch the Slate. Munakata looked at her from the doorway, wondering whether he should make a fuss about not having allowed her to approach the Slate.

 

‘So, why exactly am I here?’ Fushimi asked, shifting Munakata’s attention away from the enthusiastic student. He sounded and looked bored and the captain couldn’t help a smirk from twisting his lips as he thought about the reaction he was about to elicit.


	2. Chapter 2

**Chapter 2**

It wasn’t... as bad as he had expected when he regained consciousness. In a way. It surely could have been worse and he was willing to take whatever small blessings there were, because the situation was more than bad. It was unacceptable. Yet, he had to accept it. For the time being.

 

In all honesty, he hadn’t expected to actually regain consciousness at all. When his vision clouded and darkened he had known with all his being that this was the end. He felt himself falling to the ground even before Yukari delivered the final blow, but he didn’t doubt the blow would soon follow. Except it apparently hadn’t, because Kuroh Yatogami did wake up, in some sort of huge, artificial cavern.

 

He woke up to the sounds of cheerful, idle conversation and he easily traced it to the weird construction in the middle of the empty cavern: a room with one wall missing. A room that strongly reminded him of his home, except it was somewhat dingier, even messier than what Neko has managed to achieve. Before he had the time to take stock of the situation fully, his awakening has been noticed and Yukari walked up to him, gleefully explaining that “cute, little Kuroh” was now a hostage of the Green clan.

 

It could have been worse. He supposed. He could have been dead, for one. He should have been dead, but Yukari has spontaneously decided to bring Kuroh in, rather than killing him on the spot, as he has been ordered by the Green King. Kuroh didn’t entirely understand his reasoning, although he gathered, from the discussions of the four Jungle members, that after a heated argument the Green King decided that a hostage might be useful. Yukari could have foreseen that.

 

Or he could have simply wanted a pretty toy to pass time until whatever it was the Green clan has planned to do. Kuroh’s wounds have been treated. For every meal, he was given the same food the others were eating. And has even been allowed some time to rest, before Yukari gleefully announced they would train hand to hand combat. Well, it was more Yukari beating Kuroh up, at least until the cuts Kuroh has received back on the bridge have healed enough to allow him proper freedom of movement.

 

Despite everything, he appreciated the “training” in a way. Focusing on Yukari’s moves, avoiding, parrying, attacking required all his attention. His mind was empty except for the next blow, the next step and the next counter, with no place for the anger or humiliation that was eating him from the inside every other moment he spent as the “hostage”. He was also getting better and better at reading his opponent.

 

As Yukari kicked out with his left leg, Kuroh ducked under the kick and came up immediately, when Yukari was facing partly away from him. Without hesitation, he plunged his elbow into his opponent’s spine. It connected, but with less force than he would have liked, since Yukari was already moving away.

 

‘Ho-oh, are you fighting for real, my cute, little Kuroh?’ the older man mocked after he twisted away and stepped back. Kuroh didn’t waste time to reply. Instead, he advanced and ducked under Yukari’s punch. At the same time, he thrust his hand forward.

 

This time, his blow connected properly. He hit Yukari’s solar plexus straight on, throwing his opponent backwards. Without thinking, Kuroh jumped in the same direction, to deliver another blow.

 

He was halfway there when pain exploded, radiating from his neck, making him gasp, stumble and fall to the ground. He clawed at his neck, helplessly trying to make it stop, unable to move or get up.

 

A solid kick send him flying backwards, crashing violently against the hard floor, but at least the pain stopped. Kuroh lay on the floor, gasping, watching how Yukari advanced. A scowl has replaced his usual, gloating smirk and Kuroh slowly became aware of the loud laughter echoing in the cavern.

 

‘He got you good this time, Yukari. It’s the first one, no? Your junior is catching up, so watch out,’ Sukuna Gojo exclaimed, his tone amused and mocking in equal parts. A flash of fury gleamed in Yukari’s eyes as the words echoed, followed by more laughter. He took out something that looked like a small remote control and Kuroh suddenly got a very bad feeling about the situation.

 

He didn’t have to wait long for a confirmation of his feeling. Yukari pressed a button without hesitation and the pain, radiating from Kuroh’s neck, exploded again. He screamed.

 

Blinding, debilitating pain. Forcing tears to his eyes. Tearing the scream from his lips. It felt like it lasted forever before it disappeared as fast as it came, leaving him breathing heavily, still unable to move, barely aware of the voices around him.

 

‘Now, now, Yukari,’ came the lazy drawl of the bizarre priest. The man has apparently come up to Yukari and has taken the remote from him. ‘You are the one who has brought this boy here against orders and you are the one who wanted to train hand to hand combat with him. Don’t be a sore loser.’

 

‘How unattractive,’ Sukuna Gojo goaded, very obviously thrilled by the situation. A flash of fury glowed in Yukari's eyes again and Kuroh was very glad that the other man had the remote in his hand and not Yukari.

 

‘Indeed,’ Yukari said with a small smile, obviously having composed himself. He kneeled next to Kuroh and patted his head. His voice took on the patronizing tone Kuroh hated the most when he added: ‘Well done, my cute, little Kuroh. Next time I’ll make sure to not go easy on you.’

 

With that, he left, going back to the “room”. The weird priest who looked strangely familiar followed, shaking his head in resignation. Kuroh watched them go and settle down as though nothing has happened.

 

He hated the “training”. It always ended in the same way: Yukari managed to pull him beyond the perimeter allowed by the collar-like contraption firmly fitted around Kuroh’s neck. Stepping even five centimetres over the perimeter activated the device that has been designed to somehow restrain Kuroh’s aura and prevent him from escaping. The latter was assured by sending something that felt very much like an electric shock, provoking pain so strong that Kuroh couldn’t even move to return back to the perimeter.

 

He found that out the hard way, the first time everybody but the wheelchair-bound Green King have gone out for missions: he has tried to pick up his precious sword, which they kept in plain view, on “his” edge of the “room”. It was just out of the perimeter. So close that he could almost brush the sword with the tips of his fingers a second before the restraining collar activated. It was completely inaccessible. He wasn’t even sure how long he has spent screaming and clawing at his neck before he passed out from pain. When he regained consciousness, he was back inside the perimeter and his neck was stinging with disinfectant somebody has put on the bloody scratches he has inflicted upon himself. He has tried getting Kotowari two more times, each time running faster than before, hoping to grab the katana before the collar activated, but it always ended the same way.

 

It was disheartening, if not entirely surprising, to learn that they could activate the device manually.

 

‘It just occurred to me,’ the Green King started, in a light tone. The other three seemed to ignore him, but he continued anyway. ‘That what Yukari is doing here is training his cute junior student to be stronger and I wonder if this is really the right thing to do. The Black Dog was from the beginning stronger even than Sukuna-’

 

‘Hey, take that back,’ the annoying kid protested, hands on his hips.

 

‘But if he can also defeat Yukari then who will stop him?’ the Green King continued without skipping a beat.

 

‘Take it back, Nagare,’ Sukuna complained, but was ignored again.

 

‘It’s not like he can get away, can he?’ Yukari pointed out flippantly. Kuroh pretended he didn’t notice the mocking smile the Green King sent his way as he said that it was true and Kuroh was “helplessly trapped”.

 

‘I want to fight the Black Dog, I’ll prove to you that I’m stronger,’ Sukuna Gojo jumped up, hands fisted tightly.

 

‘After dinner,’ the priest announced firmly, before anybody else, including Kuroh, could react to what Sukuna said.

 

Rather than listening to the ensuing bickering, Kuroh slowly started picking himself up, ignoring the protests of his bruised body. Nothing seemed to be broken or seriously damaged, for which he was grateful. He wasn’t sure what the Green clan would have done with a broken bone, or if they would have even done anything at all.

 

It was harder to ignore the feeling of humiliation that overwhelmed all his thoughts even if the Green clansmen seemed to pay him no attention. He has lost the fight with Yukari and has gotten himself captured, leaving Neko completely unprotected and alone, breaking the promise he made to Shiro. He became Yukari’s plaything, helpless to get out and make use of all the information he has learned about the Green clan which didn’t bother at all to hide their plans from him. Truly, he was a disappointment.

 

Perhaps that was why Shiro hasn’t shown up to save him. He knew that it had been the Green King’s plan: to force the Silver King out of hiding by threatening his clansman’s life. And now that his plan has failed, Yukari took great pains in always reminding Kuroh that he was apparently not important enough to be saved.

 

Because the Black Dog shouldn’t have needed saving, Kuroh scolded himself internally, pushing the previous thought into the furthest corner of his mind.

 

Or because the Silver King hasn’t survived that incident after all.

 

Kuroh swallowed thickly as that thought crossed his mind. It was the worst of them all and the hardest to push away, so he welcomed even the small distraction of the bowl filled with fried rice being placed in front of him. Politely, glad that his voice wasn’t shaking or unsure, he thanked the priest who brought it.

 

‘Whatever, kid, enjoy your meal,’ the priest said. It sounded like he wanted to add “it’s not like we’re gonna starve you” and not for the first time Kuroh wondered about the Green clan. In the empty cavern, he had nothing to do but watch them, so he did.

 

He watched them bicker like brothers, sometimes forgetting they were not a family. He watched them cook and eat and discuss random topics, reminding him of the brief time he has spent with Shiro and Neko. He watched them care for each other, the way Master Ichigen has cared for him. He watched them plan the theft of the Dresden Slate for a reason that seemed to be so obvious to them they have never mentioned it out loud yet.

 

With a resigned sigh, he picked up the bowl and took a spoonful of the rice. It wasn’t bad.

 

‘We have a new, interesting player, by the way. I’ve been waiting for him to show up,’ Nagare Hisui spoke up at some point, his voice breaking the monotone of spoons clattering gently against the bowls. Kuroh glanced up from his food and almost dropped the bowl when he saw the glum face staring from the user profile the Green King has pulled up.

 

Saruhiko Fushimi.

 

‘Oh? Sceptre 4’s third-in-command?’ the priest said unnecessarily. Hisui laughed quietly. Where the priest looked and sounded suspicious, the Green King seemed amused. Kuroh would swear his eyes were sparkling with excitement.

 

‘What’s a filthy Blue doing in the Jungle?’ Sukuna growled.

 

‘Isn’t he a person who has already betrayed the Red King to join the Blue King?’ Yukari asked rhetorically, his tone bored. To Kuroh it was obvious what he was implying and an unpleasant feeling, a sickening worry, washed over him.

 

‘He stated in one of the forums that his annoyed at his boss looking to release some frustration,’ Nagare said, obviously choosing to answer Sukuna’s question. ‘Right afterwards he took on a mission to beat up some random guy,’ he added. Kuroh gritted his teeth, forcing himself to not move or make a sound and remain forgotten by the Green clan.

 

‘Some people are abusing the system,’ the priest complained after Nagare provided further information. It appeared that some of the higher rank players wanted to get revenge on a guy who has stolen his girlfriend. So he used some of his points to create a middle-ranking mission: beat up the “annoying asshole”. And Fushimi took it.

 

‘The rules allow it, so it’s not abusing anything,’ Yukari pointed out, this time sounding amused.

 

‘Doesn’t he get enough action at work?’ Sukuna grumbled, hands crossed and a very childish pout on his face.

 

‘It seems that Saruhiko Fushimi has been assigned a boring mission two days ago,’ Nagare spoke after a moment. It was both worrisome and pitiful that he could hack the police computers with such ease, Kuroh thought. ‘He is assigned to accompany a student-’ the Green King paused and laughed.

 

‘What is it?’ the priest asked.

 

‘They are studying the Dresden Slate,’ Nagare announced, laughing some more afterwards. ‘Reisi is probably desperate for something that will give him an edge over the other Kings, how precious. Shall we show him how utterly pointless it is?’ he asked.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Note: “cute, little Kuroh” is my way of getting across “Kuroh-chan” without actually using the “chan”.


	3. Chapter 3

**Chapter 3**

‘If you came to check up on Neko, you just missed her,’ she heard as soon as she opened the door to a certain, stylish bar. The words were spoken dismissively and Seri Awashima paused briefly. With a huff, she stepped in, closing the door behind her, looking around briefly. Except for the barman behind the bar and the Red King, sitting at one of the tables, drawing something and kicking her short legs in the air, there was nobody. It was the best set-up, she thought, not in the mood to answer to any stupid questions from other HOMRA members.

 

‘How rude,’ she said, coming up to the bar and sitting on one of the red chairs. The dashingly handsome barman smiled at her and she was unable to not smile back. ‘Can I have a drink or should I leave, since the Strain is not here?’ she asked, pretending to be insulted.

 

‘Can I make it without the red bean paste?’ the barman asked back with his most charming smile. Seri didn’t even bother to reply and he sighed heavily, expression changing into resigned disappointment. Seriously, one could thing she was asking him to commit an atrocious crime!

 

‘Neko is very worried about Kuroh Yatogami,’ Anna Kushina, the Red King spoke out of the blue, disturbing the familiar, comfortable silence. ‘She will not stop going out to try and find him, as well as Shiro. She will not stop crying in the evenings, when she comes back alone.’

 

‘It’s not like there is anything I can do about it,’ Seri replied stiffly. She didn’t want to be unkind, but she didn’t appreciate at all the faint reproach she thought she could hear in the kid’s tone. That was why she added: ‘She could have tried to intervene in the fight, rather than screaming for the king who has abandoned them.’

 

‘Now, now, mademoiselle,’ the barman said soothingly. ‘Don’t be so harsh on the Silver King. I’m sure he has his reasons,’ he added. Neither his words nor his tone were fooling Seri thought. She knew Izumo Kusanagi far too well for that.

 

‘You think he’s dead,’ she stated.

 

‘I think he acted like he cared for them the way Munakata cares for you, or the way Anna and Mikoto before her care for all HOMRA members,’ he corrected without denying her statement. Seri pursed her lips.

 

‘Shiro is not dead,’ Anna whispered firmly. Neither of them answered her.

 

Izumo placed a glass in front of Seri and, while she dissolved the red bean paste, prepared himself a gin tonic. Wordlessly they clicked the glasses together and took a sip. Seri was sure that Izumo thought along the same lines as her: if Shiro was alive then why hasn’t he shown up yet? What would it take to force him to make a move?

 

‘Is it still acceptable for the Strain to remain with you?’ Seri asked instead. She asked every time she came visiting, which was much more often these days than usually. Every time the answer was the same: “yes, Neko can stay with us”. Anna has apparently grown very fond of the cat woman.

 

‘Now that she’s alone, Neko doesn’t want to go back to the school anymore,’ the little King added this time.

 

‘That’s not so surprising,’ Seri allowed. She could understand how a home without the family wasn’t the same. Harsh as it was, it was better for Sceptre 4. It was one thing less to worry about, even if the Jungle players have obviously let up on harassing the Strain after kidnapping Yatogami didn’t produce the desired results. Well, that was the theory Sceptre 4 was working under, or rather not working since there was nothing much to do anymore.

 

‘No news on the Gold King?’ Izumo asked after a long moment of silence made it obvious the topic of the Strain wasn’t going to be continued. Seri shook her head slightly.

 

‘The captain found some information in the library of the Mihashira Tower. It seems that the Gold and Silver Kings have been long-time friends,’ she said. The Red clan deserved to know about it. ‘We’re now assuming that they have left together, for whatever reason. The other option would be that the Gold King is mourning the loss of his friend in solitude. The Gold clan has been most unhelpful in anything that goes beyond maintaining the Tower and all the national agencies. We are not sure why, but Fushimi thinks they simply know nothing.’

 

‘Always the pessimist, that guy,’ Izumo muttered with a smile entirely too fond for somebody who has been betrayed by the topic of the conversation.

 

‘Well, it’s this or they’re knowingly hindering our progress,’ she sighed. ‘I think I prefer his pessimism this once.’

 

‘Putting it like that, you certainly do have a point,’ Izumo laughed lightly. ‘How’s the captain doing?’ he asked after a moment, keeping his tone nonchalant. He wasn’t fooling her this time either. He could have just as well asked the real question: is Reisi Munakata holding on? Is he stable?

 

If it was anybody else, especially anybody else from the Red clan, she would have glared at them until they combusted under the heat of her anger. But it was Izumo, so Seri only sighed tiredly, unwilling to discuss her king in front of the Red King. Not even if the Red King has agreed to form a tentative sort of alliance with the Blue King and, ultimately, had the right to know how his ally was faring.

 

‘I suppose your last question is about the Green clan,’ she said instead, knowing that this topic change will appease the Red King and her first-in-command. ‘We’re no further along in that case than we were three days ago, when I came here. Fushimi is slacking, under the excuse of escorting that student to the Mihashira Tower- Well, he is absent most of the days recently, but he does have computers there. He could be doing his work almost normally.’

 

When there was no immediate reply to her complaining, Seri looked at Izumo to find him looking at her with a puzzled expression. Quickly, she replayed the few, last sentences she has said in her head and realized her mistake: the Red clan didn’t know about Mai Ueno studying the Dresden Slate. As she failed to fully restrain herself from wincing, she saw Izumo smile slowly.

 

‘Saruhiko is stuck with babysitting duty?’ he asked, leaning closer to her, against the bar. Seri looked away. ‘Do tell me, it sounds fun,’ he purred. Seri closed her eyes.

 

She had to say something. And soon. Was it ok to let the Red Clan know about studying the scripture on the Slate? The Captain hasn’t said anything about it. Which meant also that he hasn’t forbidden the topic, so it was her call, wasn’t it?

 

A beep of incoming message saved her. Izumo pulled back and, from under the bar, took out a PDA. Seri frowned slightly at the device: wasn’t his PDA black? She was about to ask, but the words died on her lips when Izumo cursed. Badly.

 

‘What happened, Izumo?’ Anna asked, coming up to the bar. Izumo ignored her. He whipped out his PDA and started typing furiously. The other, grey one beeped again, just as he has pressed “send”. He glanced at it and typed something else. Only afterwards did he look up, still ignoring his King.

 

‘Seri, you need to contact Munakata,’ he said in a rush. Seri straightened at the worry clearly audible in his voice. ‘The Green clansmen are on the move to the docks, where somebody has spotted Neko,’ he explained and Seri didn’t hesitate to grab her phone and communicate the information to her superior. Izumo’s grey PDA beeped for the third time about the same time as she finished speaking.

 

‘So far it’s only low-rank members keeping an eye on her,’ Izumo said and Seri echoed the words, talking over Munakata thanking her for her help. ‘There seems to be a 5 point per photo award in the game, so chance is Neko won’t manage to disappear before the big players show up.’

 

‘I’ll see you later,’ Seri said once she hung up. ‘Please tell me and the captain if the Strain changes location drastically. We’re sending in the teams, but it will take time to reach her,’ she explained, glad for the open collaboration between the clans.

 

She didn’t wait for his reply, running out of the bar. With perfect timing, Tatsuya Enomoto pulled up with a car and she jumped inside, yelling at him to go before she even closed the door properly. In the car’s radio, she heard the captain ordering Fushimi to standby with all the possible cameras, to try and trace the arrival, and maybe the departure, of Jungle’s key players. The third-in-command replied in a bored tone, taking his time to complain about the small screen he only had at his disposal in the Mihashira Tower.

 

A thought crossed her mind: what if this is a ruse so that the Green clan can make their move elsewhere? She was about to tell Enomoto to turn around and go to the Mihashira Tower, when Fushimi calmly informed them, through the radio, that Jungle’s Yukari Mishakuji and Sukuna Gojo have been spotted on the cameras, in the vicinity of the docks.

 

‘We’re never gonna make it on time,’ Enomoto muttered. ‘How did they get there so fast, damn it?’

 

‘Just drive,’ Seri replied, although she agreed with her colleague. ‘The Strain can hold her ground for a while. We’ve seen her in action, when she gets serious,’ she added, not really believing her own words. Or rather, she was convinced that the Strain stood no chance against those particular, two Green clansmen.

 

‘Hidaka reporting,’ came through the radio with heavy disturbances. ‘We’ve been stopped by some Green clansmen. Backup requested at the location,’ he said. The location blinked blue on the screen: right next to them.

 

Seri cursed.

 

‘Go there, we cannot leave our men without help,’ she commanded. Enomoto looked like he was about to protest, but the words that left his mouth were a report, over the radio, of changing course to help Akira Hidaka out. Afterwards, he turned the car into the next perpendicular street, stepping on the gas.

 

It didn’t take them long to arrive and while alone Goto and Hidaka would have been completely overwhelmed due to the sheer number of enemies, the four of them have somehow managed to dispatch of all the masked Jungle players. Seri was about to order them to continue towards the docks, despite all the time they have lost, when a flash of white light grabbed their attention.

 

‘It’s coming from the direction of the docks,’ Goto pointed out. ‘What the hell was that?’

 

In a flash of premonition, Seri knew the answer even before a giant sword materialised high above the city buildings. Still, she held her breath, taking in the details and comparing with what she knew, coming to the conclusion that it was exactly as expected: the Silver King has descended on Earth again.

 

**})i({**

As usual, the cavern was quiet when Yukari and Sukuna were gone, however, it was anything but peaceful this time. They didn’t hide what their mission was: to capture Neko. They even showed Kuroh the pictures of the lost Strain, alone in the docks. How stupid was that girl? Going alone somewhere with no people!

 

Not that it mattered if she was against both Yukari and Sukuna.

 

Ever since they left, laughing about their mission and trading comments about how they could subdue Neko, Kuroh was pacing back and forth. Scenarios, going from bad to worse to even worse, played in his head and not once he glanced at Kotowari, resting on a stand, at the very edge of the “room”. Unprotected. Unattainable. He hated how they mocked him by displaying it freely. He hated how he knew exactly where to stop and turn around to not trigger the contraption around his neck, even if there were no markings on the floor. Like a trained animal that didn’t even need a cage to stay put.

 

‘How amusing,’ Nagare Hisui spoke up at some point. Kuroh really wanted to ignore him, but he stopped and looked at the Green King anyway. He recoiled when he saw the man looking straight at him, smiling mockingly. ‘It seems that the Red and Blue clans have somehow heard of our mission,’ the Green King informed him.

 

Kuroh looked away with an angry huff and resumed his pacing. In his head, he tried to invent scenarios when somebody, anybody comes to save Neko on time.

 

‘You think that Fushimi tipped them off?’ the priest asked in between sips of beer. Was that man really a priest? Kuroh couldn’t help but wonder. He had a feeling he should know that man’s face and he was sure he has never met any priests. It was most unsettling.

 

He glanced at the recorder, lying on the “room’s” floor near Kotowari. He longed to have it almost as much as the katana, to hear something that would help him figure out what to do in this helpless situation or even understand why he felt so unpleasantly worried when he looked at the kind priest. There must have been something, he was just not smart enough to see it on his own. Surely, his master would have known.

 

Nagare Hisui laughed.

 

‘If Fushimi has tipped off the Blue and Red clans about this mission then he is seriously playing for both camps,’ he announced. Kuroh gritted his teeth, both wishing that he didn’t have to listen about the betrayal and knowing he needed to know as much as possible for when he got out.

 

If he got out.

 

‘Do share,’ the priest prompted when the Green King simply kept laughing quietly.

 

‘He has just told some people which roads the police cars were passing through. Our faithful clansmen have managed to stop them all before they reached the docks,’ Nagare Hisui announced with amusement.

 

The priest laughed out as well.

 

Kuroh was gritting his teeth so hard it was a wonder they didn’t shatter. He fisted his hands, breathing slowly in and out, deliberately, to remain some semblance of calm. That shameless, immoral traitor! He knew the consequences of stopping Sceptre 4! If Kuroh ever met Fushimi, in the cavern or anywhere else, there would be hell to pay.

 

Yes, that was it, he thought. If Fushimi ever made it to J-level or if Kuroh managed to get out, the traitor would regret. More importantly: what would now happen to Neko? Would the Red clan, at least, make it on time to help her?

 

Idly, Kuroh registered the priest and Nagare Hisui discussing the fate of Green clansmen who would inevitably get caught and arrested. There was not a shred of remorse in their voices, or on their faces when Kuroh glanced their way before resuming his pacing. All the time, he waited for the Green King to inform him about how the Red clan was thwarted. The longer this announcement didn’t come, the more his imagination provided of scenarios, where Yukari and Sukuna burned.

 

Could Izumo Kusanagi stand his ground against the two Green clansmen? Probably not, but the Red clan acted as a team. If they charged in together and that annoying skateboarder-

 

Kuroh paused, both his pacing and thoughts, as a sort of tingling shiver ran down his spine. Immediately after, he could feel the gaze of the Green King burning into him. Uncertainly, he turned his head to look at the wheelchair-bound man and shivered again when he saw the ominous smirk on Nagare Hisui’s face.

 

Moments later, Yukari and Sukuna arrived, looking safe and sound but not carrying an unconscious, or struggling and screaming, cat woman. Kuroh sagged in relief. The Red clan has made it on time. Or Neko has managed to escape. Or-

 

Why the hell was the Green King still smiling like that? Why wasn’t he angry that the mission failed? Why were Yukari and Sukuna in such good moods? What was Kuroh missing, again?

 

‘I suppose you already know the good news,’ Yukari stated as he stepped into the “room”. Why did he glance Kuroh’s way so eagerly? Or was his gaze eager? Sukuna ran into the “room”, hands spread to the sides, shouting about how it was amazing and how the mission worked this time.

 

But-

 

‘What are you on about?’ the priest asked with irritation, although the moment he spoke his question his expression cleared and his eyes widened in surprise. ‘Don’t tell me-’

 

‘Yes!’ Sukuna exclaimed and did a small dance.

 

‘The Silver King has appeared,’ Nagare Hisui said calmly, his eyes still not leaving Kuroh.

 

The Silver King has appeared. For a moment, Kuroh forgot to breathe. Shiro has come back, Shiro was alright, Shiro- The thoughts turned in his head in circles, so loud he almost didn’t hear Yukari’s description of the ambush. The story of how Neko tried to get away and how they cornered her, of how, in the last moment, just as Yukari was about to deliver the blow that would render her unconscious and transportable, a bright light blinded them all. Cheerfully, Yukari described how he was thrown back, Sukuna adding his five cents about how he flew into the wall from the sheer force with which Yashiro Isana pushed them away.

 

Frozen in shock, but happy, oh so happy that Shiro was alright after all, that their hopes have not been in vain, Kuroh watched the others. He couldn’t understand why they were so happy to have another enemy, but for the moment it didn’t matter, because Shiro was back and so Kuroh should now pull himself together and return to his King’s side, to his precious friend.

 

Yukari turned to look at him and Kuroh found his gaze immediately shifting to look straight into his senior student’s brown eyes. He couldn’t understand the emotions in them, something lurking beyond the joy, softening Yukari’s usually sharp gaze.

 

‘It seems, my cute, little Kuroh, that you were simply not important enough to Yashiro Isana for him to show up and save you,’ Yukari said softly. Kuroh blinked, for a moment not understanding the meaning of the words spoken to him. He was not-

 

Oh.

 

Shiro hasn’t come to help Kuroh, to spare him the kidnapping and the humiliation of the restraining collar and being Yukari’s plaything. Shiro hasn’t come even though, according to the priest, Yukari hasn’t been all that far from killing Kuroh that day on the bridge. Shiro hasn’t come when Kuroh was screaming his lungs out, clawing at the collar as the incredible pain cursed through his whole body, all but paralysing him.

 

Shiro has come to save Neko, but not Kuroh.

 

Memories from the times he spent with Neko and Shiro flashed in front of his eyes. Memories of his stubborn attempts at killing Shiro and the warmth in Shiro’s amber eyes that slowly melted the ice around his heart and soul. Memories of Neko’s stupidity and of laughter it provoked half the times. Memories of Kuroh’s pledge to Shiro and Shiro’s promise to come back.

 

A promise that apparently meant nothing.

 

He wasn’t even aware that his legs buckled under him until his knees collided with the floor. The shock of it snapped him out of his stupor and he found himself breathing heavily, almost convulsively, hand fisted on his shirt, over his heart that was hurting as though a knife has been thrust into it. He squeezed his eyes shut and pushed his other hand against his mouth, desperate to not make a sound, to not let the burning tears in his eyes spill over. Slowly, he bowed his back, forehead almost touching the floor.


	4. Chapter 4

**Chapter 4**

This whole situation was a pain in the back. And while Saruhiko Fushimi understood very well why his captain gave him the mission he did, he thought there were limits to cruelty. Surely he could have made his betrayal credible without having to endure day after day with that damned... optimist. There were limits to what he could endure without snapping and he felt he has reached them now. He swore that one more, bright smile or one more “it’s a lovely day today” or anything of the kind and he was going to strangle Mai Ueno without caring about the consequences.

 

He swore that, but he knew, he wouldn’t. The damned student would probably claw at his face and leave nasty scratches. Yes, that was good enough a reason to not strangle the young woman he could already see approaching the Mihashira Tower, right on time. He could drive her through with his sword, but cleaning the blood afterwards would be a pain.

 

‘Good morning Mr Fushimi, how are you today?’ Mai Ueno asked as she stopped next to him, smiling as though it was a good thing to be awake so early in the morning. He didn’t bother replying, only turned around and led her into the building wordlessly. She followed, apparently taking the hint, because she didn’t speak as they got into the lift and Fushimi authorised the trip to the Slate chamber.

 

His PDA beeped with incoming message, but he couldn’t quite take it out in the lift. Every wall was a mirror and the student could get a glimpse of his screen. If it was an official message it was ok, she would probably not be able to read it anyway. But if it was a notification from Jungle- Well, she could see the logo while he was logging in and it would be problematic if anybody found out that he was playing the game, even more so if they realized he has passed the first level after aiding the attack on the cat woman.

 

He was curious to know and so to distract himself while the lift climbed the floors, he looked at the student he was escorting. She paid him no mind, busy reading something on her PDA, a small frown on her face. She has long since dropped the suit she wore for the first few meetings in favour of more comfortable clothes. She usually wore toned down colours, mixing pastel and dark shades. Sometimes, like today, she wore a bright, intense yellow scarf that seemed to completely not fit with her style.

 

Well, it did look good with the dark-blue, knitted dress she had on- Wait, wait, why the hell he was even thinking about this?

 

Ah yes, to not think about the message on his PDA.

 

Fushimi looked back at the student, but right then she also looked up, eyes wide and somehow worried. Instinctively, he recoiled slightly.

 

‘I’m really sorry, Mr Fushimi, I forgot that I wanted to start in the library today,’ she said, sounding genuinely remorseful. Fushimi took a deep breath. ‘I mean, the reading room of Lord Kokujoji,’ she clarified needlessly. Well, if she has come to the Tower so early by mistake then Fushimi would really kill her.

 

‘Now that we have sent the lift to the Slate chamber, we have to arrive there first and go down afterwards,’ he informed her tonelessly. It was a precaution measure to not allow anybody unauthorized to go up to the chamber from getting into the lift mid-way.

 

‘Ah, sorry, sorry. But if we’re passing through the chamber anyway, I can pick up my notes, like that the trip was not in vain,’ she suggested with that bright smile on her face. Fushimi sighed.

 

‘It’s not like I mind going up and down in the lift,’ he muttered, making her laugh.

 

‘I suppose it doesn’t change much from sitting on a chair in the library and waiting till I’m done,’ she acknowledged somewhat remorsefully. ‘I’m sure that if you talk with captain Munakata he will agree to rotate your shifts with somebody else, so that you can do more interesting things than babysitting me here,’ she added. Fushimi frowned.

 

‘A rotating duty makes it easier for you to trick us and sneak in alone,’ he said, making her laugh. He looked away.

 

‘Really, I understand that the Dresden Slate is a precious artefact that needs to be kept a secret and I have no problem with being escorted everywhere in the building, but what exactly are you afraid I will do?’ she asked. She didn’t give him any time to answer, not that he planned to. ‘Did you see the size of this thing? It’s not like I could carry it out or something.’

 

Fushimi really didn’t like the topic of the conversation and liked even less that it occurred on that particular day, right after he has “proved” to the Green clan that he was ready to betray Sceptre 4. What if that cheerful student was an agent of Jungle? What if the Green King has decided to use Fushimi and her to get the Slate, rather than risk a full frontal attack?

 

His PDA beeped again. Mai Ueno glanced in the direction of his pocket.

 

‘Are you sure this is not important?’ she asked.

 

What should he do? The message might be from Jungle. If it was and if the Green King demanded his cooperation now, what was he supposed to do? Sacrificing one, annoying Stray in order to get some credibility was one thing. He felt no remorse for doing this, especially since it has forced that annoying slacker, the Silver King, to show his face again. But even if the Strain has been kidnapped, he wouldn’t feel bad about it. For one he didn’t care about her at all.

 

Now, however, the stakes could be completely different in scale. They were on the way to the Dresden Slate and while they wouldn’t be able to take it out, as Ueno has kindly pointed out, they could tinker with the security systems. Or disable the cameras. He couldn’t help Jungle to steal the Slate. It was out of question.

 

Mai Ueno raised an eyebrow in question, probably at his lack of reply. Fushimi ignored her, trying to calculate the risks in his head. Option one was that the message was from Jungle and he helped: it could lead to them stealing the Slate easily. Option two was that the message was from Jungle and he didn’t help: it wouldn’t be difficult for the Green King to go through the same reasoning as Fushimi just did and understand that Fushimi wasn’t really on his side. Option three was that the message wasn’t from Jungle and Mai Ueno was completely innocent.

 

What was the chance that it was option three?

 

The lift pinged, stopping at the floor where the Slate chamber was, snapping Fushimi out of his thoughts.

 

I’ll pick up my notes real quick,’ the student said and was out of the lift before it finished opening fully. Fushimi sagged in relief, but it was short lived: he had to quickly check the PDA and follow her to the chamber. Whether she was innocent or not, his orders were to never leave the student alone in the chamber.

 

Damn it, he’d check the PDA while she gathered that mess she called notes. It would probably take her at least ten minutes.

 

‘Hey, wait,’ he called out and followed her. She waited and they entered the chamber together. And while she went directly to her messy notes, Fushimi finally took the PDA out of his pocket and pressed the button to see the received messages.

 

Rustle of paper and a faint curse grabbed his attention and he looked up from the PDA, right on time to see a sheet of paper float gently and land over the Slate. It was clearly too far to reach without stepping onto the Slate, but it seemed the student didn’t give it a second thought: without any hesitation, she made a move to retrieve the notes.

 

A foreboding feeling washed over Fushimi, leaving goose bumps on his arms. He didn’t understand it, because people have walked on the Slate without problem, although there were very few people who did. Still, he called out to the student, to stop her.

 

Too late. Mai Ueno was already on the Slate, squatting down to pick up the sheet of paper that has escaped her.

 

Nothing happened.

 

Feeling like a fool, Fushimi watched her stand up, glance at the paper and turn around to get off the Slate. He watched, feeling almost as though the time has slowed down, as she lifted her leg to take a step and hesitated, putting it back down. As she turned back to the centre of the Slate, Fushimi was ready to call her back again, demanding she steps off immediately. He would still look like a fool, but something wasn’t right. Breathing in, he opened his mouth-

 

And found himself on all fours on the ground, feeling as though something was trying to press him into the floor. Lifting his head minimally, just so he could see anything else than the marble floor, required more effort than a hundred one-handed pull ups. He imagined. He has never done any.

 

There was nothing. He could see nothing that explained the pressure that threatened to snap his spine if he didn’t comply and lay down. Nothing that explained why Mai Ueno was standing on the Slate, exactly like he has seen her before the pressure appeared.

 

Then, as sudden as the appearing pressure, the space around him distorted, as though somebody was pulling on the dimensions. The chamber appeared smaller and smaller and suddenly, the space imploded, somewhere above the Slate.

 

Fushimi didn’t quite see that, because his brain has told him he was being squeezed under the heavy, decorative roof of the chamber and he blacked out for a moment. When he came to, he was still in the chamber, on the floor where he has fallen. The pressure was gone and so was the spatial distortion and he could sit up with only his shaking body as an obstacle.

 

A quick look around told him he was still alone with the student in the chamber. Mai Ueno was still on the Slate, apparently unconscious. Messages on the PDA now completely forgotten, Fushimi called in for the medical emergency response team and staggered to the Slate on shaking legs.

 

**})i({**

A solid kick in the stomach sent him tumbling away on the floor, hitting his head at some point, but it wasn’t as hard as it could be. For one, he has still not arrived at the edge of the perimeter, since there was no blinding pain. All the same, Kuroh didn’t try to get up, expecting that Yukari will soon get bored. His senior student advanced with an ugly scowl on his face, but Kuroh didn’t even bother to tell him it was highly unattractive. He just lay there, on the floor, watching Yukari pull out the remote control of the collar. Anticipation twisted his insides sickeningly.

 

‘Get up,’ Yukari barked, finger over the trigger.

 

For the first time, Kuroh has refused to participate in the “training”. Well, not so much refused as ignored Yukari and remained sitting in the same spot he was sitting after waking up. After repeating twice that they should spar and getting no reply, Yukari kicked him to the ground and Kuroh stayed down. There was no point to fight, no point to continue. Yukari seemed to think differently, Kuroh supposed, since he kicked him again. And now, he took out that remote, probably hoping to frighten Kuroh into obedience.

 

He watched Yukari’s finger hover over the trigger, wondering if the pain could be kept long enough for him to actually die. Or would he first claw through his own neck, trying to get the collar off? He sure drew blood on a few occasions, he felt it afterwards, when his brain could process something else than the pain inflicted by the infernal contraption.

 

‘Get up,’ Yukari ground out through gritted teeth, appearing angrier by the second.

 

Kuroh had no intention to comply. Earlier that day, if it was a new day at all, he has only eaten because the priest threatened to feed him otherwise and that, or causing a fuss like a two-year-old, would have been far more humiliating than accepting the food from his enemy. He might have been rejected yet again, might have been deemed unimportant and expendable, but the last vestiges of his stubborn pride forced him to not endure feeding.

 

“Training” with Yukari or refusing to would end the same way, if the finger above the trigger was anything to go by. So Kuroh wasn’t going to move. There was no point. There was no more a reason to continue. If he could gather enough courage, he would have asked them to give him Kotowari and-

 

He swallowed thickly. He was too much of a coward for that, wasn’t he?

 

‘I will not repeat it the fourth time, Kuroh. Get up,’ Yukari ordered. Kuroh was surprised he has repeated it as many as three times anyway. Instead of answering, he turned his head away and closed his eyes. He didn’t want to see Yukari’s finger pressing on the button.

 

But the pain didn’t come. Kuroh didn’t understand why, but stubbornly remained with his head turned away. Faint rustling of fabric seemed to suggest that Yukari put away the remote, rather than activating the trigger. Or he took out something else. Kuroh didn’t care.

 

Suddenly, a tingling shiver ran down his spine, strangely familiar. Kuroh opened his eyes, turning his head back to look at Yukari for reasons he couldn’t quite understand. The Green clansman was looking at him, through him, eyes wide opened in shock.


	5. Chapter 5

**Chapter 5**

Seri Awashima was just getting out of her car, when a person, walking on the other side of the street, stopped and looked up. They exclaimed in surprise and pointed towards the Mihashira Tower, getting the attention of somebody who accompanied them. Around them, more people looked up and some also exclaimed, some pointed. A few took out their phones to take pictures or call and Seri decided to look as well.

 

For a moment she wondered if there was somebody wanting to jump. She could almost imagine Fushimi snapping from boredom and threatening the captain with suicide if his mission wasn't reassigned. But the amused smile that stretched her lips at that mental image immediately faded when she saw what was hovering above the Mihashira Tower.

 

The Sword of Damocles.

 

Far simpler than all the Swords Seri was more familiar with, this one was black, with a short hilt and a cross-guard. Its clean-cut, prismatoid blade gleamed like glass or crystal in the daylight and the dark stone in the middle looked and reflected light like a diamond would, if diamonds were almost black. Beyond any doubt it was the Sword of Damocles of the Colourless King.

 

She heard a gasp, only a split of a second later realizing it was her who gasped. Memories of the last Colourless King flashed through her thoughts unbidden and she couldn’t help but worry: what if the new Colourless King was just as problematic? Could they deal with both the Green and Colourless Kings with the forces they currently had? What if the Colourless King joined the Green King?

 

Without looking away, she grabbed her PDA and dialled Fushimi. He didn’t pick up, but few seconds afterwards, a general message from him, requesting medical help in the Slate chamber, came through her earpiece. Seri let out a breath she didn’t realize she was holding: whatever happened, Fushimi was alright.

 

A reply to Fushimi, transmitted on the general frequency, confirmed the despatch of the medical response team. A description of the emergency was requested, but Seri didn’t really listen anymore: she was dialling the captain’s number, to report on the new development.

 

Understandably, the captain said he was arriving as soon as possible. And in the meantime, before heading upstairs to check the situation out, Seri dialled one more number.

 

**})i({**

After spending the night in their student room and realizing that rice crackers and white rice made for a very poor meal, the female Strain all but dragged him to HOMRA’s bar. On the way she explained that she has been staying there ever since Kuroh Yatogami got kidnapped by the Green clan and maybe they could stay there some more, until their group’s resident cook came back. The Silver King said nothing, but the female Strain never really required any answers, so it wasn’t a problem. She simply kept talking cheerfully, jumping from topic to topic with dizzying speed, obviously thrilled to have her Shiro back.

 

‘Shiro, Shiro, look,’ the female Strain exclaimed, pointing to a shop’s window, where cute toys were displayed. The Silver King smiled and patted her head lightly, taking in the display. She snuggled closer to him in a very cat-like manner. ‘Shiro, Shiro, can we go there later?’ she asked, putting on what must have been her cutest, pleading expression.

 

He felt “Shiro” inside him. The persona he has created over those days, first under the Strain’s mental control then on his own, was something like him in his childhood: kind and caring and infinitely optimistic, despite the stressful times in which he came to live. But now, that he has regained all his memories, he wasn’t quite completely “Shiro”. He was Adolf K Weismann, the man who has attained the power of Gods but lost everything he held dear. The man who has escaped the reality and has spent years upon years in voluntary isolation, only communicating with his closest friend from time to time. He could no longer ignore those memories or how they shaped him.

 

Therefore, he couldn’t bring himself to care about the female Strain quite as much as “Shiro” naively had, because he knew that, ultimately, she would age, wither and die. And he would continue, forever alone. The more attached he grew to her and others now the more he would hurt watching them pass on. That was the main reason why he has hesitated to come back to Earth after the lieutenant has died. Probably, if Nagare Hisui hasn’t been plotting something potentially extremely dangerous, he would have stayed away. To not see his friends, “Shiro’s” friends die.

 

‘Shiro?’ the Strain asked uncertainly and the Silver King realized that he has forgotten to answer her question. He smiled and promised they would visit the shop on the way back from HOMRA’s bar. It seemed enough and the girl launched into another monologue about what she and the Black Dog have done while searching for him.

 

The Silver King thought about his faithful knight. It was most unfortunate that the Black Dog has been kidnapped. When he has jumped out of the Himmelreich he hasn’t even considered that his tiny clan would have been incomplete when he landed. He hasn’t thought there was anybody in Tokyo, with the exception of the Blue King, and perhaps the Green King, who could have defeated the Black Dog. Not that there was anything he could have done: if he was to trust the Strain, Kuroh Yatogami’s kidnapping happened more less at the same time as the lieutenant’s death and there was no question as to who was more important to the Silver King.

 

‘Shiro, Shiro, we’re going to find Kurosuke, right?’ the Strain asked, having finished her story. The Silver King looked at her to see genuine worry in her mismatched eyes. He smiled sadly and patted her head.

 

‘Of course,’ he said, because he knew that was what she wanted to hear. It was what she expected from “Shiro” and she smiled hopefully when he said it.

 

If we ever find the Green clan’s hiding place, he thought. If Sceptre 4 hasn’t yet found it, with all the resources and Fushimi’s hacking skills, the Silver King didn’t see what he could do. In the privacy of his own thoughts, he actually hoped that the Black Dog would find the way to escape and join them. But it was a faint hope, since the Green clan had somebody who outmatched his faithful knight. Somebody whom, according to the Strain, the Black Dog knew from his past.

 

‘I’m sure Anna will help us,’ the Strain added. ‘She’s really good at finding people, you know. And she knew you were ok. She gave me a bead where I could see you, so I knew as well,’ she explained, not making much sense.

 

‘You mean Anna Kushina, yes? She’s the new Red King, isn’t she?’ he asked. He did remember the Red clan’s Strain, or rather remembered that she had some sort of location ability. It has been very problematic, back in the time when he was running away from their blood thirst, when HOMRA thought “Shiro” has killed their friend.

 

To their excuse, it has been “Shiro’s” body that has done the deed. He could just hope that the Red clansmen remembered it was the Colourless King and not the Silver King who has been in the control of that small, fragile body. Especially as the entrance to the bar loomed at the nearest corner and the Strain pulled him to walk faster enthusiastically.

 

Luckily, the bar was almost empty. Izumo Kusanagi looked up at them when the door opened and hid his surprise, but not fast enough for the Silver King to not notice. He welcomed them, barely audible through the Strain’s loud demand of breakfast.

 

‘We’re not a diner, you know,’ he complained, rolling his eyes when the Strain demanded pancakes with plenty of chocolate sauce. ‘That’s not something you should have for breakfast!’ he protested, but his words fell on deaf ears.

 

‘Can I have some too?’ Anna Kushina called out from her seat on the comfy looking sofa. The Strain immediately went to sit with her, telling her about how good it was to have Shiro back. The Silver King smiled up at the bartender.

 

‘I’m sorry for this. Will it be a big problem?’ he asked politely. ‘I wanted to go to a diner, but Neko insisted that the only person whose food she likes now that Kuroh’s gone, is you,’ he added, mindful to call the Strain by her name, like Shiro has always done. Kusanagi gave him a strange look, before assuring him that making food for two more people wasn’t that much of an issue.

 

‘I’ll try to whip up something more appropriate for breakfast as well, since Anna is a growing child and needs a proper, balanced diet,’ he said. The Silver King didn’t even have to fake the soft smile that stretched his lips: it was touching to see how the Red clansman cared about his young King.

 

He thanked Kusanagi and bowed the way Daikaku has taught him ages ago. For some reason, it got him another puzzled look from the bartender, but no questions or comments followed. Probably, the Silver King mused, he should act less formal: the way Shiro would.

 

While Kusanagi went to prepare the food, the Silver King turned to where the Strain and the Red King were sitting, watching four, red beads turn in circles on the map of the Shizume city. In a quiet tone, the Strain told him they were looking for Kuroh and for a moment the Silver King thought that problem will be solved quickly. But when the beads started to slow down, it was clear they wouldn’t meet in one place.

 

‘Why doesn’t it work?’ he asked, carefully hiding his disappointment from his voice. Probably, this wasn’t the first time the Red King has done it, so if it was as simple as that, Kuroh would have already been recovered.

 

‘He could be off the map,’ Anna Kushina replied simply. ‘If he is asleep or unconscious, the beads will have problems finding him as well.’

 

‘Neko said you couldn’t find me when I was away,’ he started, wondering how much the Red King was willing to share about her abilities.

 

‘You were in the sky, weren’t you?’ the little girl half-asked, half-stated. Not waiting for his reply, she told him that she could only really find people who were on the ground or not far from it, like in a building. She didn’t know why. It was interesting to know, the Silver King thought, while the Strain asked the Red King to try again.

 

‘Food first,’ announced Kusanagi, coming up with two, large plates, full with triangular sandwiches. The Strain squealed happily. ‘This is an English bar, so I made you English sandwiches! I have here: egg and mayo, ham and butter and some coronation chicken. Dig in kids.’

 

The Silver King didn’t bother pointing out that he was far older than Kusanagi. He was too busy grabbing a sandwich and, following the bartender’s instructions, digging in. It was good.

 

‘I also have some news,’ Kusanagi added, tone growing serious, successfully getting the Silver and Red King’s attention. ‘It appears that the Dresden Slate has nominated a new, Colourless King.’

 

The Red King gasped in surprise, making the Silver King glance at her briefly. Why was- Ah yeah, not everybody knew as much as him about the Slate.

 

‘I think the Slate doesn’t like to leave vacant positions for long,’ he said in the most casual tone he could manage. Immediately, he felt Kusanagi look at him and wondered what was wrong with his statement: was it the tone? Did he use wording Shiro wouldn’t?

 

‘That can’t be quite right, now, can it? The Grey King has died in the Kagutsu incident. That was quite some time ago,’ the bartender pointed out. The Silver King looked up at him, honestly surprised.

 

‘What about the Gold King?’ the Red King asked, breaking the silence that fell after the bartender’s statement. The Silver King sighed.

 

They deserved to know, he thought. Well, they needed to know.

 

‘Maybe we could arrange a meeting and introduce ourselves to the new, Colourless King?’ he suggested, wondering if anybody else felt a shiver run down their spines at the memories of the previous Colourless King.

 

**})i({**

The Colourless King was back. Yukari has asked Nagare Hisui to check Sceptre 4’s communication lines, somehow knowing that something happened, and the Green King confirmed it and even shown them the image of the Sword of Damocles hanging over the Mihashira Tower. As if that wasn’t enough, some Jungle members also uploaded photos on the game’s server.

 

Unwilling to get up or look at his captors any longer, Kuroh rolled to lay on his back, trying to figure out what the return of the Colourless King meant to him. Nagare Hisui was enthusiastic about one more player joining the game. The priest and Sukuna started a guessing game of how the new King looked like. Yukari was surprisingly quiet. And Kuroh? It didn’t really matter, did it? He was a prisoner of the Green clan, kept for reasons he couldn’t fully understand, like a pet. He has completed Master Ichigen’s mission, in a way, although a part of him wished that he could judge also that new King.

 

The thought that the Colourless King could be evil hurt. The idea that they would tarnish the memory of Ichigen Miwa twisted his insides with worry and nausea.

 

However.

 

There was nothing he could do, other than hearing the Green clan plot and plan and wonder what the ability of the 9th Colourless King was and whether they would be as easy to manipulate as the 8th Colourless King has been. Some part of Kuroh wanted to ask for explanation of that, but he stayed silent, watching the distant ceiling. It didn’t matter anymore, anyway. Shiro, the Silver King, has won against the 8th Colourless King, so that story was finished. Just like, it seemed, Kuroh’s story in the Silver clan, pitifully brief.

 

A thought that he was the member of Colourless clan crossed his mind, but he pushed it away before it could become a ray of hope. He didn’t need hope anymore, he didn’t want hope, because hope would be broken and that hurt. He knew that better than most. And the new Colourless King had no reason to search and save him. Nobody would come for him and he had no idea how to escape on his own.

 

He wasn’t sure how long he has laying there, thoughts swirling in his head. He was vaguely aware that the Green clan’s discussion had finished and the priest has started cooking. Idly, he wondered how it would feel to be a part of their family, but that was unacceptable. Was it?

 

‘How about some training before dinner, my cute, little Kuroh? You should keep yourself in shape after all. You never know when you’ll need it,’ Yukari's voice scattered Kuroh’s thoughts. It was slightly mocking, probably calculated to get a rise out of Kuroh. Probably it would have worked some time ago, but no more. Now, Kuroh only turned his head away from where he heard Yukari approaching.

 

‘I don’t like to be ignored,’ his senior student spoke again, this time displeased rather than mocking. Kuroh prepared himself for a kick meant to snap him out of the “unattractive depression”, as Yukari called it, but no kick came. Instead, Yukari warned him that he wasn’t going to like what would happen if he didn’t get up in the next ten seconds, ready to fight hand-to-hand.

 

Kuroh closed his eyes. A moment of silence passed, perhaps Yukari’s ten seconds. Perhaps more, he didn’t count.

 

“The final curtain falls at the very moment a person gives up.”

 

Hearing the familiar, dear voice, shot through him like a lightning and Kuroh immediately looked up to where Yukari was standing, well within the perimeter, the most precious voice recorder in his hand, a displeased expression on his face. It morphed into gleeful mocking when he finally got a response from his junior student and Kuroh was overwhelmed by a feeling of foreboding.

 

‘The new Colourless King is here, so you won’t need this anymore, will you?’ Yukari asked nonchalantly, twirling the recorder in his hand, obviously not caring at all if it fell. Before even he became aware he has moved, he was in a crouch, ready to pounce and sure that his eyes were glaring bloody murder, wordlessly willing to threaten Yukari into putting the recorder away. Unfortunately, it seemed that his senior student was immune to even the best of Kuroh’s glares.

 

A cold smile stretching his lips, Yukari carelessly dropped the recorder on the floor. Kuroh twitched, ready to jump for it, but Yukari was faster. In lightning speed, the violet-haired man brought his foot up and down on the recorder, the crunch of the plastic filling the cavern and echoing off the empty, distant walls.

 

Kuroh saw red. Some distant part of his brain was aware that he jumped, but there was no active thought that went into the action. Only vaguely he registered the surprised expression and the widening of Yukari’s eyes. He collided with Yukari, hands finding their way to his neck even as they both flew backwards.

 

Out of the perimeter.

 

The pain exploded and Kuroh’s hands closed instinctively. Vaguely, he felt hands on top of his and heard screaming, but there was nothing he could do anymore. Then he was flying back into the perimeter, Sukuna Gojo on his heels, not leaving Kuroh even a split of a second to gather himself before showering him with punches and kicks.

 

All Kuroh could do, was to curl up, protecting his head and stomach.

 

‘Stop it, Sukuna,’ he heard eventually. The kicks stopped, replaced by some arguing between Sukuna and the priest, but Kuroh didn’t move. Slowly, the pain from the collar and punches faded into manageable levels. When the annoying teenager finally accepted that it was Yukari’s fault for “thoughtless provocation”, the priest went about tidying up, complaining all the way.

 

Listening to the pieces of plastic and metal being swept away, Kuroh couldn’t quite keep the silent tears from falling. He has never thought he would lose that recorder.


	6. Chapter 6

**Chapter 6**

Things were happening in dizzying speed. After the bizarre incident in the Slate chamber, Mai Ueno woke up in a modest room with no windows and a closed door, only to be swiftly greeted by captain Reisi Munakata, who gave her a crash course on the real meaning and role of the Dresden Slate, which left her head spinning. The only thing she clearly understood was that the captain of the special police force was some sort of super-human and has gifted his power to all the members of Sceptre 4. That, and the fact that apparently she also was a super-human now. And while he left her some notes to study, to understand what was going on, he left her no time to study them, because some other super-human has requested a meeting of super-humans soon afterwards.

 

In all honesty, for a really long while, Mai was sure it was some sort of a joke. She has just about had the time to read a succinct document about the “Kings”, of which she was the seventh and Colourless King, according to Munakata. The police officer was the fourth and Blue King. Or a drug addict having the trip of his life, but then, Mai was fairly sure she has taken no drugs and she still saw the blue, steaming aura around him, when he tried to prove himself truthful. Furthermore, when she focused, she was able to produce a black, translucent aura as well.

 

It left her skin tingling unpleasantly and gave her no choice but to assume that all she knew about the world was somewhat false.

 

So, when captain Munakata came to pick her up, just as she was starting to read about the general properties of each King’s Aura and Sanctum, she decided to play along and pretend she was buying everything he said. She spent the whole trip, from the Sceptre 4’s base to a small dorm room in a prestigious, private educational institute, asking him question after question and doing her best to memorize all the answers and information.

 

Still, she found herself feeling thoroughly unprepared as a high-schooler welcomed her in his dorm room, smiling a bright, fake smile.

 

Mai has always been rather good at understanding people. More than reading their expressions and body language faultlessly, she often instinctively understood things that were important to those who surrounded her. Some years earlier she has even wondered whether she should study psychology, but her love for archaeology and understanding the mysteries of the past have won.

 

Now, after she has been nominated as the Colourless King, it felt like her innate “feeling” for people’s moods and mind-sets has sharpened. Almost like explosions of colour, she could see irritation, satisfaction, boredom- Every feeling of every person around her. Always changing. It made her feel vaguely sick. It also felt very useful, when she found herself seated at one end of the rectangular coffee table in the dorm room.

 

In front of her sat Adolf K Weismann, the first and Silver King known also as Yashiro Isana. He was the soul of the oldest king somehow locked into the body of a high school student who, to make things worse, looked particularly young. He was all emotional frost and determination, the cheerful smile on his face completely and utterly fake. Behind him sat a bizarre girl with long hair and mismatched eyes. She was all nerves and worry, mixing with immense determination to protect her King.

 

To her left, there was the Red King who Mai was shocked to discover was another kid, this time a real one, not just a spare-body-keeping-old-soul. The white-haired girl couldn’t have been older than thirteen. She was dressed in a black and red, gothic Lolita style dress and looked like a doll. According to captain Munakata, she has been appointed the Red King fairly recently, which could explain the uncertainty that swirled around her in shaky loops. Two of her clansmen stood behind, a taller and older blond man and a young man, tips of messy, chestnut coloured hair sticking out from his beanie hat. Determination to protect their child-king dominated their mind-sets, with hints of recklessness from the younger and mindfulness from the older.

 

Finally, to her right, there was the somewhat familiar Blue King, sitting with his back stiff and straight, radiating doubt and hesitation which he tried to cover with a severe expression on his face. He was willing to listen and open to suggestions, but Mai strongly doubted he would fully agree to whatever was proposed. Behind him his two highest ranking officers were standing. Seri Awashima was focused, her mind set on following her leader when she wasn’t glancing towards the tall blonde at the other side of the table, blush that she refused to show on her face clouding her emotions and judgement. Saruhiko Fushimi, for all his bored, emotionless expression, was calculating and considering betrayal.

 

It took all of Mai’s self-control to not betray any surprise at that discovery. For the moment, she didn’t want to disclose what her abilities included. It wasn’t like her, but captain Munakata’s reactions around her and his behaviour made her wonder if she shouldn’t change her habits somewhat, now that she supposedly had some power. Besides, she felt she needed some edge against the others, who all had some clansmen to protect and support them. She needed to get those as well and she was already planning to make a certain phone call, or send a message, as soon as she was going to be reasonably sure that she wasn’t going to get spied on.

 

Speaking about clansmen-

 

‘Didn’t you have two clansmen, Mr Weismann?’ she asked, bold as brass and honestly curious. She was sure that captain Munakata mentioned two clansmen and couldn’t help wondering why one of them was excluded when Blue and Red Kings brought two clansmen each. It couldn’t have been for the balance of power.

 

The reaction she got nearly knocked her off her feet, figuratively speaking, but not from the person she has expected it. The Silver King felt miffed and she got a feeling that his plans have been thwarted. The girl behind him, on the other hand exploded with worry and sadness so intense that Mai physically recoiled. Thankfully the girl wailed as well, so she could excuse her reaction as a response to the sudden sound.

 

‘Kuroh Yatogami has been abducted by the enemy, I have told you that,’ captain Munakata said sternly and immediately Mai remembered that he has, indeed, told her that. With a small gasp, she put a hand against her big mouth. Seconds later, she also remembered what else he has told her about the “Black Dog”: Kuroh Yatogami was also a Colourless clansman.

 

‘Please excuse me,’ she said, bowing deeply.

 

‘It’s ok, it’s ok,’ Adolf K Weismann assured her, just the right amount of mixed emotions in his tone that found no reflection in his thoughts. ‘I mean, it’s not, because Kuroh has been abducted and we can’t even begin to guess where he is now. But I understand that you have had to learn so many different things about this world and it’s completely understandable that you have forgotten some details about clansmen of other Kings,’ he elaborated. As thought being abducted was a “detail”, Mai thought, but didn’t pursue the topic, too busy memorizing and analysing the emotional reaction that accompanied his words.

 

As he spoke the last words, there was a strong spike of something that wasn’t quite jealousy or distrust, but a peculiar mix of both. Interestingly, that was the only emotional reflection of his words: she couldn’t quite sense the desire to actually go and save his clansman, or even remorse for not having been there to prevent the situation. It was as though he had already counted him as lost. Mai noted it for later investigation and carefully kept her face neutral. In contrary, both the young woman behind him and the Red King appeared determined to save the Silver clansman.

 

‘At least, we can be fairly sure he is alive, or else the Green clan would gloat,’ captain Munakata noted in a calm tone, none of his worry showing in his voice or expression. ‘Can we go directly to the topic of this meeting though? Sceptre 4 is very busy with all the incidents involving supernatural powers that Jungle is provoking.’

 

‘You have us do half of the dirty job,’ the shorter Red clansman complained with a grimace, provoking a spike of indignation from all the police officers. The Silver King laughed before anybody could speak.

 

‘Let us put our differences aside,’ he said, his words only pretending to be a request. The Silver King expected to be listened to. ‘I have asked you to come here, to form an alliance against the Green clan. I fear they might wish to steal or abuse the Dresden Slate and this cannot be allowed. I would have gone against them alone, but with only Neko’s help it will be impossible against their sheer numbers and power.’

 

The Silver King paused and looked at each of his three counterparts. Mai almost looked away when his eyes met hers, surprised by the self-confidence held in the amber gaze. He was calm and composed, both outwardly and internally. She could feel the other two Kings subconsciously respond to this by projecting tentative trust. She knew they were thinking something along the lines of “we know we can trust this man” because she registered the same thought crossing her own mind.

 

‘The Gold King is dead,’ the Silver King announced, creating a heavy, stunned silence. Mai only barely understood the importance of this statement. Daikaku Kokujoji was the owner, of sorts, of the Dresden Slate and its keeper. His disappearance has caused quite a stir: now that she understood who that man was, she could link the nervousness of the police officers to his unexplained absence.

 

‘It is now our responsibility to guard the Slate,’ the Silver King continued. Mai only half listened how he explained he wanted them to cooperate in order to protect the Slate from being stolen and abused. She acknowledged his point of view and understood that it was the correct one, but she was alone, with no offensive or defensive powers. What did they expect her to do anyway?

 

That was what she told them, when all eyes turned to her. She could offer her help in trying to study the Slate until the very end, to hopefully understand what it did. But surely they didn’t think that somebody who has until a day ago been an archaeology student could physically fight with people who have trained for most of their lives. They agreed with her reasoning, accepting what help she could offer, just like she knew they would. After all, she knew, intrinsically, what her ability was.

 

Persuasion.

 

She was sure that if she could find the Green King and talk with him long enough, she could persuade him to let go of whatever plan he has concocted. Of course, the Green King would have to not be aware of her intentions. It was thus absolutely necessary that the others don’t find out what her ability was yet. In the worst of cases, she would give it a try.

 

First, however, she needed to find some people who could help and protect her. She already had some ideas. Ideally, she would have liked to have that Black Dog for herself, since he seemed to be a powerful player on his own right. However, the topic of retrieving him did not come into discussion and something in the Silver King’s mind-set stopped her from mentioning it herself. Knowing of the Black Dog’s double allegiance, she didn’t want to put herself in any sort of situation where a conflict was possible.

 

‘You were very quiet during the meeting,’ captain Munakata pointed out as they walked towards the car, to leave the island. Mai glanced at him. Curiosity was spreading from him, like a tentacled creature discovering the world around.

 

‘It’s a lot to take in at once,’ she admitted, looking back ahead. Half-truths were usually the best lies: isn’t that what they said? ‘I would lie if I said I wasn’t somewhat overwhelmed by the sheer importance of this meeting and I only understand half of what you all said.’

 

‘That is perfectly understandable,’ the Blue King agreed kindly. Fushimi and Awashima, who were walking behind them, exchanged a few sentences, but Mai couldn’t quite hear what they said. She only felt their confusion and something akin to disappointment. Before she could delve deeper and see how much really she could understand from a human’s mind, the captain spoke again: ‘Once we return to the home base, you will be able to spend as much time as you need studying the documents and logs,’ he assured her.

 

‘Actually, I was hoping to go home,’ she replied, casually enough to not let on how much she really wanted to get away from the Blue clan’s surveillance. There were things she has clearly understood from the meeting and among them was the healthy dose of mistrust between the clans.

 

‘It is-’ the Blue King started, also keeping his tone nonchalant but not fooling her. She could see his sudden worry, like a cloud darkening his thoughts. She didn’t let him finish, trying to work a soothing tone into her voice. It was a good practice for her persuasion.

 

‘I want to take a long bath with my favourite scented oil and relax, captain. I want to change clothes. I will be back before you realize, because I do want to solve the mystery of the Dresden Slate and I need to study those documents and logs you have.’

 

‘I suppose you’re right,’ he allowed with hesitation. ‘Would you like us to drop you there? I would be happier if you weren’t wandering the city on your own, lest the Green King decides to make a move.’

 

Mai bit her lip. He did have a point and she could only feel honest concern from him. Besides, she supposed that he knew her address, since it was in her university files. They have come to the school in an unmarked car to not attract any unwanted attention, so even if they did drive her all the way it was somewhat alright: nobody would realize she has been brought home by police. All the same:

 

‘Could you drop me next to the Animate Store in Ikebukuro? A new volume of Black Butler manga has come out yesterday. I have been planning to buy it on my way home, except I never made it there, as you are well aware of.’

 

She almost laughed out at the stunned silence her statement created.

 

‘See, I told you that even a person like her has more interesting hobbies than you, Fushimi. No offense meant, ma’am,’ Awashima spoke up eventually and Mai did laugh this time and promised she took none. The captain agreed to drop her in front of the shop and the four of them got into the car.

 

As on their way to the island, Fushimi was driving, with Awashima on the passenger seat and the two Kings, gods how weird it was to think like that!, in the back, where the windows were tinted. They left the island in silence and, as each of them mulled over thoughts of their own, Mai watched their emotions change. Calmer than on the way to the meeting, it was a fascinating spectacle.

 

‘What I still don’t understand is why the Silver King didn’t show up earlier,’ Awashima spoke up suddenly. Immediately, Mai asked why and the Sceptre’s second-in-command briefly told her about the Silver King’s long disappearance and how it lead his two clansmen to believe he has died. She summarized the events that led to his reappearance as well, adding that it wasn’t like Yashiro Isana to let his friend get hurt. Disapproval was clear in her emotions, all sharp edges and spiky tips.

 

‘Didn’t it feel like he wasn’t the same Yashiro Isana anymore though?’ Fushimi asked, sounding as bored as ever. ‘Didn’t he recover all his memories?’

 

‘He must have his reasons,’ the Blue King said, but he felt unconvinced. Mai bit her lip, wondering if she should speak up or not. ‘We should not judge him too easily. After all, you know of Mr Weismann’s history.’

 

‘Still, what kind of “King” doesn’t care about his subjects?’ she asked, only realizing she has spoken out loud when she felt their surprise. However, before she could even think to voice an apology, the surprise morphed into satisfaction for Munakata and approval for the other two. So maybe it was a good thing that she has spoken, even if they didn’t continue the topic.

 

Only some minutes later, did it occur to Mai that maybe they have deliberately started the conversation to gauge her reaction. Surely they have already discussed the return of the Silver King before, so it seemed like a reasonable assumption. Immediately, she wondered how many of the other conversations she has had with them since she regained consciousness were tests of her personality. And why her exceptional interpersonal skills didn’t let her realize earlier.

 

Perhaps because her brain was too busy processing the fact that she was now some sort of super-human, she thought. She wished she was back to being a student. Or at least that she has already drawn the bath and could soak for an hour, forgetting the world.

 

First, however, she needed to arrange some things. Noticing that Munakata was looking out through the window, Mai took out her PDA. Quickly, she found one of her contacts and typed a message:

 

“Please, meet me in Animate in- she hesitated- two hours. I need your help badly.”

 

She didn’t even have the time to close the communicator application before a picture of thumb up appeared under her plea. Smiling, Mai deleted the conversation and put away the PDA.


	7. Chapter 7

**Chapter 7**

She was in Animate much earlier than after two hours, but that was all part of the plan. The last thing she wanted was for the Blue King to suspect she was starting to gather “clansmen” before she even had the time to explain the situation to her friends and she fully expected that the police officers wouldn’t drive away immediately, curious. Plus, that gave her time to go and buy the manga she really did want to buy. In fact, it gave her too much time and she found herself browsing through the merchandise section only to find a notebook with a pretty logo and blue stripes and a super cute phone charm, in the shape of Sebastian Michaelis. Then, just before she could turn around and pay for her meagre coronation gifts, her eyes caught a nicely made pentagram-pact-with-the-devil phone charm. And right after: a chibi Sebastian.

 

Gods, she was too old for that, wasn’t she? Then again, she was also probably too old for the full-door-size limited edition poster of Sebastian Michaelis and she had one in her cosy studio. Surely she could offer herself a small coronation gift. The question was which one, because she shouldn’t get two phone charms, should she? Not the same day, that is. Thus, Mai Ueno remained there for a long while, weighing pros and cons of both. A cute, chibi Sebastian versus the pentagram with beautiful inscriptions - who would be able to decide easily?

 

In the end that was where her friend, Erika Karisawa, found her and immediately made the decision easier by claiming the chibi Sebastian, the last one nonetheless, for herself, along with five other charms with chibi manga characters. Mai complained for the sake of complaining, defended herself for wearing a yellow scarf, again, and followed her friend to pay for the shopping.

 

Chatting idly, they went out where the three guys were waiting. After exchanging greetings they made their way to the Minami Park, passing by a Seven-11 to pick up some drinks. Mai didn’t start the conversation immediately and neither did they, waiting for her cue. In the end, they finished each a can of chuhai. As Kadota opened himself a second one, Mai thought it was maybe time to start talking.

 

She cleared her throat and all four faces turned towards her. She took a deep breath.

 

‘It will be difficult to believe, I guess,’ she started and hesitated, remembering the headless biker speeding down Ikebukuro streets. Maybe superpowers weren’t so weird. ‘And before I start I need you to remember one thing: I swore to myself, on all that is sacred, that I will not use my abilities on my friends.’

 

Even without seeing the bursts of bewilderment blooming through the pleased haze of spending time with friends, she could easily read the feeling on their faces. Kadota looked like he was going to ask something right about the moment when worry darkened his feelings, but he stopped himself, obviously deciding to listen for a moment longer. Mai took a large sip of her second drink, put the can away and moved to stand in front of them.

 

Right, she thought, I have no idea how to call up my “aura”. Then again, ever since she woke up, earlier that day, she felt it inside, swirling and spreading and wanting to get out. So she just closed her eyes and willed it out a little bit.

 

It felt as though she released a gust of wind in all directions. It sounded a bit like it as well or perhaps like a distant waterfall. Slowly a weight settled on her shoulders and, as she heard gasps, she looked up to see a huge sword hanging over her head, far above, its ages slightly hazy wherever the swirling greyish black, translucent smoke overlapped with it.

 

So that was the Sword of Damocles, she thought. It looked far more impressive than on the images she has seen in Munakata’s files. Probably it was one of those things you had to “see with your own eyes” and maybe even feel on your own shoulders. Since the weight appeared when the sword has, she assumed they were connected, but was it normal? She could worry about it later. She would hopefully read about it later, when she returned to Sceptre 4. In the meantime, she looked at her friends, more less at the same moment as they looked away from the sword and down at her again.

 

Now. How do I call that thing back?

 

Not later than Mai thought her question, there was a pop of implosion and the weight and the swirly, unnatural smoke disappeared. Her shoulders sagged a bit and she went back to her place, feeling the gazes burning into her. Only after she sat down and took a sip of the drink did she look back at her friends, the smile she tried to call up dying on her lips.

 

‘Yesterday, something happened and I became a “Colourless King”, or so I’ve been told when I regained consciousness today in the morning,’ she said quietly and took another sip from the can. Nobody spoke, so she continued what little speech she has prepared. ‘There are seven Kings, some sort of super-humans who can give powers to people who will follow them. Amongst them, the Colourless King is a sort of wild card. I would have laughed them in their faces, but ever since I woke up I see people’s emotions as clear as I see you guys now. And I know that I could convince just about anybody to do anything I want them to, regardless of what they want, wish or believe. It seems to be my “ability” as the Colourless King.’

 

She paused with a sigh.

 

‘You mean you could convince Walker and Saburo to kiss?’ Erika asked, sounding completely serious. Mai blinked. She hasn’t thought about this kind of use for her ability.

 

‘What the hell?’ the two concerned men exclaimed in outrage. Erika laughed out and Mai couldn’t help giggling as well even as she considered Erika’s question.

 

‘I could probably even convince them they actually want to do this,’ she admitted. The truth was that she had no idea what the limits of her ability were. ‘Although not right now, maybe, since they would know what I’m trying to do. I think the target has to be unaware,’ she added to calm the spiking worry she felt from the two men.

 

‘That was why you started with that bizarre statement?’ Kadota asked. Mai nodded. She knew that they could still doubt her or doubt their own decisions and thoughts from now on. However, she was sure that saying first she could convince everybody to do whatever she wanted and only later reassure people she wouldn’t use her ability on them was worse. ‘So what do you need from us?’

 

‘Protection,’ she replied without hesitation. Then, slightly less certain: ‘Well, I’m not sure how much I really need it and how much you guys can stand up to some enhanced super-humans, but I would be happier if I knew that I have a place where I can run away to. In case something happens.’

 

‘What could happen?’ Walker asked, sounding and feeling glad, probably because the topic has changed. Mai shrugged and looked down at the can opening and her fingers fiddling with it.

 

‘Right now there is a Green King who wants to steal the thing that gives people superpowers, while the others want to stop him. If he thinks I’m part of the plan, he could try to eliminate me, knowing that I’m the weakest player,’ she muttered, although she had a feeling the Green King would avoid her. She sighed and continued louder, but still not looking up. ‘I think they are right in wanting to stop the Green King, because of all that cliché “with great power comes great responsibility”. I have so far told them I can’t help, but even without it I think I should find some clansmen. Until then, however-’

 

‘Can’t I become your clansman?’ Erika interrupted her. Mai blinked at her in surprise.

 

‘It’s permanent, I think,’ she cautioned, but Erika clearly wasn’t listening.

 

‘Well, a clanswoman in any case. Do you think I would have the power to convince boys to kiss each other?’ she asked. Walker, who was sitting next to her, edged away slightly, making the other two guys snicker. Mai stifled a smile as much as the outward reaction as Walker’s emotional make-up. The poor guy really was helplessly in love with the crazy yaoi fangirl.

 

‘What kind of superpowers are we talking about?’ Togusa asked. ‘If it’s something like X-ray vision I’m in. Or no, wait, what is it that lets you see under people’s clothes?’

 

‘Saburo,’ Erika exclaimed, outraged. Togusa tried to defend himself that if she was going to live out her dirty fantasies then so could he. And Mai had to stifle her laughter, because somebody needed to remain serious in that serious situation.

 

‘I don’t know actually,’ Mai replied to his first question, cutting the argument short and getting everybody’s attention again. ‘It appears that the Colourless King gives different abilities to their clansmen, or at least there is a choice of two abilities.’

 

Quickly, she described what she has managed to read about Kuroh Yatogami and Yukari Mishakuji, explaining also why she couldn’t count on them as her protection. Of course, Erika seemed disappointed by the description, and so was Togusa, but she could see clear interest on Kadota’s and Walker’s faces. She rushed to say that the skills appeared to still depend on the person and there were stronger and weaker individuals.

 

‘I have nothing to confirm it, but somehow I feel that I could hope to forge new abilities for my clansmen as well,’ she finished, deciding to not add that it would have been easier to be a Blue or Red King and only have one ability to share.

 

‘Try me, try me,’ Erika demanded immediately. ‘I want to be able to make guys kiss!’

 

‘How is that an offensive or even defensive ability?’ Walker protested. His outrage entwined closely with jealousy, wrapping around him like a prickly braid.

 

‘They cannot fight if they’re snogging, now, can they?’ Erika pointed out immediately. She did have a point, Mai thought. Plus, if men thought that standing up to Erika would leave them kissing other men then maybe they would think twice.

 

‘That distant hand is much more useful. Imagine: you could throw Molotov cocktails much further away, or even torch buildings from a safe distance,’ Walker countered stubbornly. Mai looked from Erika to him and then to the other two, who were nodding, as though Walker was saying something reasonable.

 

‘I’m wondering if that other thing couldn’t be used to make get the van to go faster, or maybe even jump over obstacles,’ Togusa piped in, obviously having made peace with the idea that he wouldn’t see through girls’ clothes any time soon.

 

‘Yeah, I can’t decide which one is better,’ Kadota muttered, nodding his head some more. It was frightening that the most reasonable of the four sounded like he was honestly considering diving head first into the world none of them really knew anything about.

 

‘You guys,’ Mai started and trailed off, when they turned to look at her. The four smiles on their faces were almost scary, but there was no hesitation in them, not even a hint of worry that things might turn sour.

 

‘Count us in, Nerdy,’ Kadota said.

 

‘It sounds like fun,’ Erika added. It didn’t, but Mai wasn’t strong enough to turn down help she has probably, subconsciously counted for.

 

**})i({**

If there was one thing good about the appearance of the Colourless King, Saruhiko Fushimi thought, it was certainly that he didn’t have to play a babysitter anymore. After all, it would be hilarious if one of the Kings had restricted access to the Slate or even required constant surveillance while reading up on the Gold King’s documents. That meant he could to back to the home base, back to the centre of action. Or so he has thought.

 

Munakata was quick to put him right.

 

‘What do you mean you want me to pick her up tomorrow morning?’ he asked incredulously.

 

They have just come back from the “coffee table alliance” meeting and he has gone to his usual place, leaving Munakata and Awashima to discuss something they needed to talk about but wouldn’t with him present. It has taken them surprisingly little time and they were now in the main room, Awashima looking away guiltily when he glanced her direction to figure out if it was a joke.

 

‘Didn’t we say today that we need to find the location of the enemy base if we are to hope for any chance in fighting them?’ he reminded them when no immediate answer was given to his first question. ‘I didn’t join Sceptre 4 to be a babysitter when I can do something useful.’

 

‘Protecting our allies is just as useful as attacking the enemy,’ Munakata pointed out, sounding so unconvinced that Fushimi had no idea whom he was telling this to. ‘Mai Ueno has no clansmen and, as far as we can see from her CV and the information we got on her, barely any self-defence skills. Even once she figures out what her ability is chances are it will not be something she can fight with. She is a perfect prey for the Green King.’

 

‘Then assign somebody else to guard her,’ Fushimi hissed. ‘I don’t know why it was me from the beginning, but I’ve certainly had enough. We all know that, between all of the clansmen in our, Red and Silver clans, I am the one with biggest chances of tracking down any digital trace of the Green clan that could lead us to their hideout. Assigning me on protection duty for the new King, who by the way, hasn’t even agreed to join our alliance, is a waste of resources.’

 

He paused as a thought occurred to him, unpleasant and worrying.

 

‘Or are you purposefully dismissing me from the real action?’ he asked, tone quiet in contrast to his near shouting from moments earlier. With the corner of his eye he saw Awashima twitch at the words while Munakata winced. It was as good as an answer and Fushimi recoiled. Somebody has found out he was playing Jungle, he thought. And Awashima thought he was going to betray them.

 

‘I am not,’ Munakata protested, but it was very obviously a lie. It wasn’t even a good one. ‘For one, I want you to not only protect the Colourless King, but also keep an eye on her. It is exactly because she refused to help us that we need to make sure she truly refused because she has no means to fight and not because she hopes to join the Green King. Preventing that, considering that we don’t know what her ability is, is as important as locating the Green King.’

 

It was a fair point, although haven’t they agreed that finding the location of Jungle’s base was the most important? Munakata has said so during that stupid meeting in the high school dorm room. Why was he changing his mind now? Besides, there were people in the unit better prepared to tail a woman.

 

‘Send Awashima,’ Fushimi countered without hesitation. ‘She’s even stronger than me and the Colourless King wouldn’t be able to pull any “I need to go to the toilet” kind of clichéd escapes with her.’

 

Munakata hesitated. His eyes never left Fushimi, but he seemed at loss of what to say. To Fushimi it was clear that the protection duty he has suddenly been assigned was just a way to pull him away from researching the Green clan, away from a position in which he could intercept any important information and mislead the Blue clan.

 

‘Actually you know what? I don’t care anymore,’ he proclaimed, feeling his irritation climb higher than ever since he has quit HOMRA. Perhaps that was a sign after all.

 

With jerky movements, he undid the loop that held the sword at his side and threw the weapon on the floor, between him and Munakata. Only then did Awashima look at him, horrified by his actions and a part of Fushimi wanted to know what role exactly she played in Munakata’s sudden change of heart. A part didn’t care anymore. He was done with the inefficient police. He could see already how they would lose to the Green clan and he was not a person to stay on the sinking ship. Everybody knew that.

 

He all but ripped his uniform jacket off his shoulders and threw it, with far more force than necessary, onto the ground.

 

‘I’m done,’ he hissed through gritted teeth. Munakata clenched his fists, but said nothing, the damned coward. Too bad. It would have been far more satisfying to punch him in the face as he was leaving, but he would have to be satisfied with a verbal attack. ‘If you want to waste your time on suspecting the wrong people then feel free and go to hell,’ he spat.

 

‘Fushimi,’ Awashima protested, but he didn’t even spare her a glance before he turned around and stomped out of the command room.

 

‘No, lieutenant, let him go,’ he heard Munakata say and wanted to laugh bitterly at the situation. ‘If he feels like this we cannot force him to stay.’

 

‘But captain,’ Awashima protested. ‘What if he-’

 

Fushimi didn’t hear what she was afraid he would do: he has slammed the door behind him and continued down the corridor without pausing. In reality he has been prepared for such a situation for a while now, so he knew exactly what he needed to do. And he needed to do it fast, before anybody realized. They would surely try to stop him then, but if he managed to get the Green ninja out then she in turn could get them out of Sceptre 4’s headquarters.

 

Truly, the police these days was a joke.


	8. Chapter 8

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Back to Kuroh <3

**Chapter 8**

After Yukari has destroyed the recorder, Kuroh has spent hours upon hours, remembering all the haiku he could think of. Even though he was sure he has missed some, the longer he kept up the internal litany of poems, the more he became aware they have been engraved into his mind and heart alike. Slowly, the urgency of remembering as many haiku as possible faded and Kuroh found himself reminiscing the circumstances in which Master Ichigen had spoken his words of wisdom and not only the poems themselves. Slowly, he remembered who he wanted to be.

 

Surprisingly, Yukari let him be.

 

And with each memory, the precious time he has spent with Shiro and Neko felt less and less significant until it was more like a dream than anything else. It has been a beautiful dream, but it was finished. It was not who Kuroh was, not who he wanted to be. Kuroh Yatogami was the vassal of the 7th Colourless King. Nothing more and nothing less.

 

When Yukari eventually called him for “training”, some undetermined time later, Kuroh didn’t hesitate. In his mind there was no doubt as to what he should do to the one who has betrayed Master Ichigen and destroyed Kuroh’s only memento of him. Yukari Mishakuji should die for his crimes. In his heart, Kuroh knew that he would be able to kill this time.

 

He has never killed before. When Master Ichigen has asked him to potentially kill the new Colourless King, Kuroh has accepted without hesitation, but has been worried he couldn’t do it. He has wavered when he has had the first chance. In the end it has been the correct thing to do and the Red King has taken the responsibility for ridding the world of the Colourless King. Now, Kuroh would not falter.

 

He attacked even before Yukari has finished issuing his challenge: as soon as his enemy stepped deep enough inside the perimeter. Fair play was for those who deserved it. Brown eyes widened slightly at the swift response his mocking call got, but that was all he has had time to do before Kuroh attacked.

 

A hand stopped his first blow, but that was all calculated for. A kick followed, also stopped by Yukari, who was starting to smile now. Kuroh made sure to wipe that smile off his face with a solid punch in the solar plexus. The force of it pushed Yukari far enough for Kuroh to deliver a roundhouse kick that sent Yukari flying out of the perimeter.

 

Kuroh didn’t follow. Quite the contrary: he retreated back into the centre of the perimeter and waited. It was hardly ideal that he couldn’t follow through when his opponent was down, but he was past making mistakes in the heat of the moment.

 

‘Ho-oh, you’re getting good at it, kid,’ the priest noted from the “room”, where the others were watching the “training”. They were always watching, amused and cheering as though it was sport. They would often mock whoever seemed to be losing, usually Kuroh, and their comments only made it worse when the collar kicked in inevitably. This time, however, there was honest admiration in the priest’s voice.

 

‘Who do you think you’re praising, damn it? He’s the enemy,’ Sukuna Gojo protested angrily.

 

‘But think what a formidable ally the Black Dog would make,’ the priest countered without a moment of hesitation. Kuroh flinched slightly at the words: was that really their plan? He has wondered many times why they have kept him alive, fed and as well as he could be in the circumstances, even going as far as tending to his injuries on some occasions. Surely amusing Yukari wasn’t worth it, was it?

 

It didn’t matter, he told himself, focusing solely on his opponent. Yukari picked himself up from the ground, brown eyes blazing with delight. Was this what he had wanted all along?

 

‘Are we getting serious, my cute, little Kuroh?’ he asked, straightening his back. ‘Good,’ he commented. Slowly, deliberately he stretched both arms. Kuroh took a defensive stance, knees slightly bent, one hand up.

 

They pounced at the same moment and met roughly in the middle. Kuroh caught Yukari’s kick with his hand and Yukari deflected Kuroh’s punch with his knee. Barely did they touch the ground when a blow whistled towards Kuroh’s face. He ducked under it and twisted his body to push his elbow into Yukari’s stomach.

 

Yukari only partly dodged, but it was enough for Kuroh’s balance to be disturbed minimally.

 

The best choice was to follow through with the downwards move and roll away, trying to kick the legs from under Yukari. Except Yukari was ready for exactly that. He dodged fully and planted his heel in Kuroh’s spine. The force of the kick smashed Kuroh into the ground hard and he only partly managed to cushion the fall with his hands, scratching his palms on the hard concrete before his face hit it.

 

He barely managed to roll away from a forceful stomp that would have surely snapped his spine in two. He rolled some more and got up as fluidly as he could, taking a quick glance around to check whether he was anywhere near the edge of the perimeter.

 

Yukari was already charging.

 

In a split of a second he had to decide, he chose to crouch and aim a kick at Yukari’s knee. His opponent tried to evade it, but the momentum of his motion was too large and even slightly off to the side, the kick had enough power.

 

A sickening crunch echoed through the cavern as Yukari stumbled and fell. Vaguely, Kuroh heard shouts of protest, but paid them no heed. Even before Yukari was fully on the ground, he was moving, aiming his heel to smash into Yukari’s stomach.

 

Strong hands caught his ankle. Kuroh snapped his head to look at Yukari, who smiled coldly, cruelly and pulled. The next few heartbeats went by too fast to fully register. Punches were exchanged in an eye blink and the “training” turned into a catfight for a moment. Then somehow, Yukari managed to get the upper hand.

 

Kuroh found himself flat on the floor, with the other literally sitting on top of him, hands holding both of Kuroh’s wrists pressed against his chest. They were both breathing heavily from exertion. Yukari’s hair and clothes were dishevelled, a dark bruise forming around his right eye, complemented by a few, parallel scratches on the left cheek. Kuroh had to stifle the immense satisfaction he felt at reducing the normally impeccable senior student to such a state: not only was it unbecoming of the 7th Colourless King’s vassal, but also he could feel his own bruises and injuries, on his face and elsewhere.

 

Besides, Yukari was smirking as though he has hoped for exactly what has happened.

 

Before either of them had the time to say anything, Sukuna jumped in and fished the remote controlling Kuroh’s collar out of Yukari’s jacket. Despite everything, Kuroh tensed, steeling himself for what would surely happen, not quite able to stifle the disappointment that even in those circumstances, things wouldn’t change.

 

‘Don’t,’ Yukari barked, eyes narrowing as he glared at Sukuna. His voice was aggressive to the point of making both Kuroh and Sukuna recoil. The latter, however, recovered quickly and shouted at Yukari for taking the wrong side. And, in a sudden wave of understanding, Kuroh realized that the kid was jealous. Jealous that his “brother” was interested in somebody else, in another “brother” with whom Yukari had things in common that excluded Sukuna. And that could only end badly for Kuroh.

 

‘Time out, boys.’

 

The Green King’s voice was faint, just above a whisper, but its tone was that of an absolute order. Yukari twitched and Sukuna took a step back.

 

‘Yukari, Sukuna, if you are bored I have some missions for you,’ the Green King continued and it wasn’t merely a suggestion. For the first time he sounded like he wanted to exert the power he had over his clansmen. All the same, Kuroh couldn’t help thinking that he sounded like a father grounding his sons for misbehaving, just the tiniest bit reminding him of when Master Ichigen has faced Yukari, all those years earlier.

 

He swallowed thickly.

 

‘One move and I’ll use it,’ Sukuna threatened, waving the remote. Perhaps he misread Kuroh’s reaction as preparation for attack. It had crossed Kuroh’s mind that to comply with the Green King’s will Yukari had to let him go, but it would be a pointless effort with Sukuna’s finger on the trigger. Especially since he knew the other would be more than happy to press it.

 

Therefore, he remained completely still when Yukari let go of his wrists and got up, the gleeful smirk sparkling up new hate in Kuroh’s heart. One day, he swore to himself, he would get revenge.

 

Yukari took the remote from Sukuna, ignoring the other’s protests, and they both made their way back to the “room”. Kuroh ignored all of the Green clan, picking himself up and tentatively feeling for any serious damage. Normally, he would barely bother after a scuffle like this. However, with the collar suppressing his supernatural powers, he supposed it suppressed also the healing from being tuned to the influence of two King’s sanctums.

 

All the same, he couldn’t quite turn his ears off and the Green clan seemed to have no qualms about discussing everything in front of him or any secrets.

 

‘Sukuna, I need you to arrange for the Silver King to receive my invitation,’ Nagare Hisui said, making Kuroh shiver: he didn’t want Shiro to see him like that. They weren’t going to bring Shiro here, were they? ‘I now have the place and the time has come to continue our work. I need to know whether the Silver King will help.’

 

‘Why would the Silver King help you anyway?’ the kid grumbled. The Green King smiled fondly.

 

‘I told you already: we want to fulfil Adolf K Weismann’s dream. It wouldn’t be all that surprising if he has left that pathetic “coffee table alliance” he has formed, to help us.’

 

Weismann’s dream? What could that be? It felt particularly important, but the others seemed to know, so Hisui never had to explain it.

 

‘Whatever,’ Sukuna grumbled, grabbing his stick before he walked out of the “room”. Kuroh glanced towards him to see which direction he was going, satisfied to note it was the same as always.

 

‘And remember to buy some food for dinner,’ the priest called out.

 

‘I’m not your house-help,’ came a shrill answer, earning Sukuna laughter from both the priest and Yukari. Kuroh wished they weren’t acting so much like a family. It was almost impossible to dislike them when they were.

 

‘He’s so cute, isn’t he?’ Yukari asked when Sukuna was far enough to not hear it. ‘What would you like me to do then? Or was this “I have missions for you” only a ploy to get Sukuna out to blow off some steam?’

 

‘You’re the one who needs to blow off some steam,’ the priest muttered, looking through what seemed to be a first aid kit. Yukari ignored him in favour of fixing his hair in front of his mirror. His injuries from the fight seemed all but healed.

 

‘It wasn’t,’ the Green King assured Yukari. ‘I’ve been thinking that it’s been a while since we showed the Red King how powerful the Jungle is. They thing they have managed to weed us out from Shizume City. I believe the time has come to shake them out of their complacency. Wouldn’t you agree?’

 

Yukari laughed.

 

‘I believe we should. But wouldn’t you rather have me show the new Colourless King how the game goes?’ he asked. Kuroh definitely wasn’t listening more closely at the mention of the 9th Colourless King, so he definitely didn’t notice the minimal deflation of the Green King and didn’t hear the soft sigh.

 

‘It appears she has decided to remain in Ikebukuro, where our Jungle never really managed to take root. Not yet at least,’ Nagare Hisui informed Yukari and the priest. And Kuroh, who was definitely not holding his breath. ‘Since it wasn’t the ground of any other King, we haven’t tried too hard either, focusing on Shizume, Metropolis and the surrounding areas.’

 

Both Yukari and Kuroh frowned, although probably for different reasons. They also both glanced at each other and, meeting the other’s eyes, looked away hastily. As always, when he was caught openly listening to the Green clan’s discussions, Kuroh was sure that they would shut up and change the topic. As always, no such thing happened.

 

‘It appears that Ikebukuro has long since been the home of a “colourless gang”, which I find very fitting for the home base of the Colourless King,’ the Green King explained without anybody needing to ask him. When he looked around to see whether the others were listening, he even looked in Kuroh’s direction, nothing on his face betraying contempt or mocking. ‘They call themselves the Dollars. I’ve been to their chatroom multiple times since the Colourless King has returned to Ikebukuro after the meeting in Ashinaka High School.’

 

‘Why would those Dollars pose a problem? HOMRA doesn’t: we have plenty of Jungle members all over Shizume,’ Yukari pointed out.

 

‘It appears that the Dollars are much more inclusive than HOMRA or any other gang we have heard of or known. Indeed, probably all the inhabitants of Ikebukuro who feel like being involved in any sort of online based group are already a part of Dollars. It will take time for some to shift to Jungle, although it is inevitable.’

 

‘One more reason to give the Colourless King a lesson,’ Yukari pointed out obstinately. The Green King seemed to contemplate his words and that appeared to be enough for Yukari, who was already getting up, brushing away imaginary dust from his coat. ‘I'll-’

 

‘Wait, wait,’ the Green King stopped him. ‘I’ll create a mission and send in some expendable members. After all, we don’t yet know what abilities the Colourless King possesses. You go to Shizume and play with the Red clan. And don’t come back unless you put at least two of them in the hospital. It shouldn’t be too difficult for you, should it, Yukari?’

 

Yukari huffed and left without a word. Kuroh watched him go until he could no longer see him in the darkness of the seemingly infinite cavern. Not for the first time he wondered where such a place could have been carved. For tactical purposes, it should be in Tokyo. Perhaps close to Shizume and Metropolis, rather than on the side of Ikebukuro: it would explain why Jungle was the most spread in those areas.

 

His hand moved subconsciously to the collar on his neck. As his fingers touched the smooth metal, he wondered if there was any way for him to get rid of that damned contraption. He has already felt through the whole collar. There was one button that must have turned something on, a touchpad perhaps: there were patches of the collar that felt distinctly non-metallic. But without seeing the touchpad he could not operate it and blindly trying resulted in a short bout of collar activation every time he tried.

 

‘You know, if you joined us you’d be free to chase after Yukari,’ said the priest and Kuroh literally jumped in surprise. He hasn’t heard the man approach, which was somewhat terrifying, because the priest was now kneeling just next to him, first aid supplies in his hands.

 

‘I would kill him,’ he stated simply, glad that his voice didn’t betray how his heart raced after the shock he received. The priest smiled, dabbing a ball of cotton in disinfectant.

 

‘He wouldn’t let you kill him so easily, kid,’ he said in a fond tone. Then he grabbed Kuroh’s chin, far gentler than Kuroh would have expected, and proceeded to clean and disinfect the scratches from rough landing on the floor. ‘Besides, we all know that you wouldn’t kill him. You think so now, but as your anger cools, you will realize that it won’t help anything.’

 

Kuroh wanted to look away, but the priest held his chin tighter, muttering about not making his job more difficult.

 

‘Why are you doing this?’ Kuroh asked, glad that he had a good excuse to change the topic now.

 

‘The floor is dirty. You need to clean those scratches or they’ll look absolutely nasty. So nasty in fact that Yukari might want to cut them off your face just to remove them. You know how he is about pretty things,’ the priest replied in a casual tone that clashed horribly with the meaning of his words. Unfortunately, right afterwards, before Kuroh had the time to protest his motives, the priest continued with the previous topic:

 

‘You could have a family again, you know? I can see that you want it. Sukuna would complain of course, in the beginning. But once he realized he’s still the youngest, with everybody doting on him, things would smoothen out. I know you might think we would not accept you in the Green clan because of that little feud between you and Yukari, but we know that brothers always fight and compete.’

 

‘Yukari and me are not brothers,’ Kuroh informed him coldly.

 

‘You could have fooled me,’ the priest muttered, putting away the now dirty cotton ball. Kuroh wanted to angrily ask what the man meant by this, but before he could the priest spoke again and all fight left Kuroh. ‘Show me your hands. You scratched them on the floor as well, didn’t you?’

 

Wordlessly, Kuroh presented his hands, palms up.


	9. Chapter 9

**Chapter 9**

Pathetic, Yukari thought with disgust, looking down at the two beaten and bloody members of the Red clan. He has spent two hours searching Shizume City, looking for a worthy opponent who could bump his score in the game and provide some challenge. He hasn’t even realized how much he missed a good challenge until after he defeated the two far too easily. But Misaki Yata has been out with the Red King and Yukari knew he wouldn’t stand a chance against her. A King’s power was on another level completely.

 

How boring. It wasn’t much of a surprise that the two were only worth 500 points each, he thought, scrolling through the Jungle’s list of Red clan members, where Masaomi Dewa and Yo Chitose were now crossed out. All the same, they would get the job done just as well as higher ranking gangsters would.

 

Nagare said to cause a stir, hasn’t he? It was too bad that ruffling HOMRA’s feathers was so easy.

 

Yukari smirked and took out his phone to snap an artful picture of the two. Quickly, he created a low-level mission: twenty points for the first five people who post this photo somewhere on social media, with a tagline of “HOMRA beaten on their own turf”. Not even ten seconds passed before the first person accomplished the mission.

 

Truly, HOMRA should be grateful: without the photo and the info that some of their members have been beaten up, it would be hours and hours before they would stumble upon them in the small alley where Yukari has ambushed them. Fortunately, HOMRA wouldn’t understand it, Yukari knew, too busy getting upset.

 

He straightened his jacket, fixed his hair and walked out of the alley as though there was nothing weird or worrying that happened. Well, nothing worried him in any case, as he brazenly strolled down the street, aiming for the busy centre of Shizume, where chances were he would be spotted. And if they attacked him, well, that wasn’t his fault now, was it?

 

His PDA beeped and he checked it to see that another Jungle player posted the photo of HOMRA members, beaten black and blue. The first post has already been seen by thirty people and commented by some. With a smile, Yukari read the social media outrage over gang activity in Shizume City.

 

Very amusing, Yukari thought. It almost made up for the boring fight.

 

A third Jungle player posted the photo. Yukari checked where it was and, just as he was about to put the PDA away when somebody wrote a comment under that third post: “you will pay”.

 

How precious! HOMRA was online after all!

 

In a much better mood, now that he was sure HOMRA has found out about his deed, Yukari looked around, wondering if he should try to do some shopping or not. Perhaps he could bring some mitarashi dango back? Sukuna and Nagare loved it, he knew very well. Even Mr Iwa couldn’t find anything bad to say about it, unless they managed to drip some sauce on the tatami. Finally, Kuroh used to like it as well, when he was a kid, so everybody would be happy, wouldn’t they? Yukari liked to see them happy almost as much as he liked crushing Kuroh’s happiness, testing how far he could go, before the cute kid broke.

 

He wondered what Sukuna would do if he found out that Kuroh liked the same food as he did and decided that it was definitely worth it to spend his own money on bringing some sweets back to the base. Annoying Sukuna was always worth the money and effort spent: the kid was simply adorable when he was pouting. And it made Nagare smile, which was nice: it made him prettier.

 

The fourth and fifth post of the photo followed, soon after Yukari has heard a distant sound of an ambulance, coming more or less from the direction Yukari has come from. It could have been unrelated, but he imagined this was the ambulance somebody from the Red clan has called and he imagined their panic and worry. He wished he could have seen it, but remaining at the scene of crime was thoroughly unattractive.

 

Still, his handiwork has gone unsigned, he realized. The Red clan would surely guess that it was the Green clan’s doing and eventually the two would wake up and tell them it was none other than Yukari Mishakuji who has put them in the hospital single-handedly. But he wanted to cause a stir right now. He should have done something to make it clear he was prowling Shizume City.

 

Immediately after, an idea occurred to him.

 

He found a shop doing sweets and bought ten sticks of mitarashi dango, leaving a handsome tip for the owner in return for a selfie with Yukari and the sweets. It turned out perfect. He cropped the edges a bit, applied a slight colour filter to bring out the brown of his eyes and sent it to a particular Jungle player who hasn’t completed a single mission.

 

Surely, HOMRA’s second-in-command hasn’t expected to remain truly anonymous when he signed into the game under a fake name, has he? Yukari wanted to laugh at the idea.

 

After a moment of consideration, he added: “Thank you for the entertainment and the sweets: Shizume City is truly awesome. I’ll be sure to recommend it to my friends.”

 

It wasn’t really surprising that he didn’t get an answer, but the messages have been delivered, so Yukari didn’t worry too much. In a great mood, he went back to the hideout, loudly announcing the bounty he carried. And the situation unfolded better than his best expectations.

 

**})i({**

From his small studio, which he has rented under a fake name right after quitting Sceptre 4, Saruhiko Fushimi plotted his fast rise in the Jungle ranks. The game wouldn’t be fun and entirely not worth quitting the Blue clan, until he was J-ranked and met the big boss. Ideally before the Green clan made their big move. Having Douhan Hirasaka give him her points in exchange for money sure helped, but when he saw a special mission of gathering information on Dollars, he knew it was made for him.

 

In a way it was too good to be true, promising as many as 1000 points if he managed to prove or disprove the Colourless King’s connection to the gang and varying amounts of points for information on key players of the Dollars. But he wasn’t going to question it. There was a possibility that the Green King, who must have been one hell of a hacker himself, was busy with other projects and did not want to wait to have them finished to find out about the new enemy.

 

There was also another mission, which he strongly advised Hirasaka to take: go to Ikebukuro and spread the word about the Jungle, but not in a way that would endanger anybody of the Dollars. The aim was to appear tempting rather than threatening. There was an award of points for everybody who would go with an original idea, plus a prize for whomever the Green King would judge to have had the best idea. Hirasaka has been one of the first players to go and tag a wall with “green is the new colourless” and “welcome to the jungle”.

 

She already got her points and forwarded them to Fushimi, but they had to wait for the Green King’s verdict about the best idea.

 

Until then, Fushimi, freshly U-rank in the Jungle, took his time to hack the server where Dollars stored their chat archives and user list. Reading through the chat to pinpoint the key players and list the most active members took time, but Fushimi, as opposed to what people thought about him, was a patient man. Anybody who wanted to be a reasonably good hacker needed to be patient.

 

His patience paid off: he discovered that the Colourless King herself was a member of Dollars, hiding behind a weird nick of マイ・フェア・レディ, “My Fair Lady”. He briefly wondered if “マイ” was a word game on her name, but it didn’t really matter. Fushimi had a conclusive proof that Mai Ueno was connected to Dollars and 1000 points more on his account. Information on the people she associated with on the chat got him more points and a proof of identity of Taro Tanaka, the leader and founder of Dollars, 500 points all by itself.

 

In few days, Hirasaka finished three more missions, even going as far as trying her abilities against Sceptre 4. She won, landing two officers in a hospital for a short time. And Fushimi was one mission away from J-rank and few yen away from bankruptcy.

 

**})i({**

Mai and Erika were sitting on a bench in the West Gate Park: Erika was going to try out her superpower, which should, unless Mai messed something up, make guys kiss. Walker, Kadota and Togusa were hanging out a bit further, ready to jump in in case of trouble, but far away lest Erika try to play a trick on any of them. People passed, some hurried, others not, some alone, some in groups. Erika waited until a likely pair of friends appeared. Mai speculated that Erika’s power would not be absolute, so if the two guys looked like they wouldn’t completely mind kissing another guy, it would be far easier than with two completely opposed to the idea.

 

Some days have passed since Mai became the Colourless King, but that day marked the turning of a new page. It wasn’t her choice really, but she has done two things that day: she has finished reading through all the information about the auras, the Kings, their clans and history that captain Munakata has given her and, going home, she has discovered that she was being followed by a Sceptre 4 officer. Thus, she has decided that the uncovering the mystery of the Dresden Slate wasn’t important enough anymore and she wasn’t going to return to the Mihashira Tower the following day.

 

She wondered what captain Munakata would understand from her absence. By then he didn’t suspect her to disappear anymore, like he has had right after that coffee table alliance meeting. Not that she was going to disappear. She would just stop visiting him as was well within her rights.

 

‘Say, Erika,’ she started hesitantly. Turning of a new page was one thing, but once she started that conversation she could end up jumping into another book. Still, she has thought about it almost every day since she became the King. Perhaps it was the time to stop wandering and act. ‘Taro Tanaka is a hacker, no?’ she asked. Her friend looked at her, curious and surprised.

 

‘He might be,’ she answered after a moment of silence. Mai could see that she wasn’t stalling but honestly didn’t know. Reading people’s emotions came with all sorts of advantages for situations like that.

 

‘And you know him, don’t you? In real life I mean,’ she added. She has chatted with Taro many, many times online. He seemed like a really nice guy. And he looked out for his friends and the members of Dollars, or at least that was the impression she had.

 

‘I have met him a few times,’ Erika admitted. Now there was honest hesitation clouding her feelings, which also darkened with worry. ‘Why?’ she asked when Mai didn’t speak again immediately.

 

‘I need somebody to try and hack into the Jungle servers,’ Mai admitted, quietly. She hoped nobody was spying on her right then. Erika physically recoiled.

 

‘Didn’t you say to stay away from them?’ she asked. ‘You even went as far as warning people on the chatroom that members of Jungle have been linked to multiple crimes occurring recently a bit everywhere in Tokyo. We have been telling everybody we know to stay away because Jungle might be worse news than the Yellow Scarves and Blue Squares combined,’ she pointed out in a rush. It was all true.

 

Mai bit her lip. She knew that she could trust Erika. Could she hope that they were not spied upon? She took a quick glance around, but nowhere could she see any feelings she would associate with hiding, stealth or spying.

 

‘We should stay away from them,’ she said firmly. ‘I will repeat it as many times as you need me to. However, there is something I would like to pick up from the hiding place of the Green King. Well, I assume it is there,’ she hesitated, purposefully vague even in front of her friend. She glanced around again, aware that she was behaving suspiciously and drawing attention of the random passers-by. She lowered her voice instinctively: ‘Jungle being what it is, I am sure they have ways to follow our chatroom, if they happen to connect me to Dollars. More, I kind of expect them to have gained a new player who appeared to be very proficient with computers. So I cannot ask Taro on the chatroom.’

 

‘I could arrange for you to meet with him,’ Erika suggested, but Mai shook her head.

 

‘He’s the leader of Dollars, isn’t he? I’m sure Jungle knows that, or will if they get interested in Dollars. If Jungle can figure out he has a direct connection with me, they will double guess all his actions. However, if they think he “only” is a leader of an internet-based gang checking out the competition, they might let it slide.’

 

‘But they might not,’ Erika guessed.

 

‘I have no idea,’ Mai admitted and they both turned to look at the people passing in front of the bench. ‘So far they have done nothing to any of the Dollars. I know they have attacked the Red and Blue clans repeatedly. Some of the Red guys even wound up in a hospital three days ago. Jungle made sure to post news about it on social media.’

 

‘I’ll ask Taro, but I cannot promise he’ll agree. He usually let the Yellow Scarves and Blue Squares be in the past, saying that the idea behind Dollars is not to fight for supremacy but rather to gather people.’

 

‘Thanks,’ Mai said. It was the best she has hoped for after all.

 

Erika laughed, making Mai look at her, bewildered by the sudden cheerfulness.

 

‘How could I call myself a Colourless clanswoman if I couldn’t even do that?’ Erika asked with a gleeful smile and sparkling eyes and they both laughed. And they barely calmed down when Erika exclaimed with excitement. Few seconds later, two guys who were just crossing the square stopped, looked at each other and dove into a passionate kiss in the middle of the West Gate Park.

 

‘Oh my god,’ Mai whispered, pressing both hands against her mouth in shock. It worked. It truly worked. Next to her, Erika squealed in delight.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Let’s just pretend this kind of “power” makes sense, ok? :P


	10. Chapter 10

**Chapter 10**

Yukari Mishakuji’s photo-message a mere half an hour after Dewa and Chitose have been found beaten and unconscious in one of the back alleys, after a picture of them has been posted on social media, was surely not a mistake or accident. It proved that Jungle knew exactly who had the disposable PDA and Izumo Kusanagi knew he has never entered any information that could in any way be linked to HOMRA and much less to him personally. It proved that Jungle was unparalleled online.

 

Especially after Fushimi has deserted from Sceptre 4, Izumo amended with a wince. Seri didn’t want to say too much about it, but he could read her well enough to know that his info about how Fushimi was fairly advanced in Jungle has played a role in his desertion. If he has known it would turn out that way, he wouldn’t have told her anything. Well, maybe he would because what if Fushimi has betrayed the Blue clan? Izumo wanted to believe that he wouldn’t but Fushimi has already betrayed the Red clan once.

 

He has even tried to get a hold of Fushimi, but the “turncoat bastard”, as Yata has called him ever since they got the news, didn’t answer his calls and has very obviously left his room in the Sceptre 4’s dorm in a rush. Probably it was too much to hope he has left Tokyo altogether.

 

‘Kusanagi. Do you have visual?’

 

The question sounded in his earpiece, slightly disturbed by the static, snapping Izumo out of his gloomy thoughts. He pressed the button activating his microphone to reply, internally cursing himself for forgetting to report. He wasn’t used to those kinds of situations, damn it.

 

‘The target has entered the bar approximately two minutes ago,’ he informed Seri and her team, trying to sound like the report was meant like that. He thought he heard a little, annoyed huff, but nobody said anything. So Izumo changed the channel to speak to his team: ‘Anybody in the bar sees them?’ he asked, because he hasn’t received any reports from them either. He wasn’t the only one not used to this kind of situations.

 

All the same, he should try to not make them fail this mission.

 

Locating a high-ranked Jungle player hasn’t been easy. In fact, Izumo was sure that it was pure luck Yata has managed to see that one guy exactly in the moment when he was on the phone with somebody, confirming that he was free to meet in person and discuss Jungle’s extension. Izumo was proud that Yata has managed to keep his anger in check and, rather than beating the man up, snap a picture and take it to Sceptre 4 for investigation.

 

Of course, that was also when Yata found out that Fushimi has deserted, but that was another story.

 

A mechanical voice in Izumo’s earpiece relayed that “"target and Jungle’s Mishakuji are having a drink together”. Sceptre 4 had this system in place for people who were in situations where they couldn’t speak out loud: they could type the message and it was transmitted as a voice message through all channels. It was stupidly useful, he thought.

 

‘We’re ready at the back,’ a Sceptre 4 officer, Izumo thought his name was Domyoji, reported moments later. He and Seri exchanged a couple of remarks and silence fell on all channels. Just to have something to do, Izumo snapped opened and closed his lighter. It was the first time he participated in this kind of action and he already knew he didn’t like it: it would be so much easier to just storm the bar, take the target and go.

 

Except none of them could stand against Mishakuji and win.

 

They have considered his suggestion seriously, until one of the Sceptre officers pointed out that Seri, who was their best fighter right after Munakata, couldn’t hold off the Black Dog on her own. And Mishakuji has done a thorough job in defeating the Black Dog. They have all seen at least a part of that recording. So they were stuck with waiting and hoping that Mishakuji and the target wouldn’t leave together.

 

They shouldn’t, Sceptre said. The principle of such a meeting was to be seen together as little as possible.

 

‘I think Mishakuji transferred something to the target’s PDA,’ the artificial voice, reading a text message of one of the guys inside, articulated carefully. Then, moments later: ‘He is getting up.’

 

‘Mishakuji is heading towards the back exit,’ announced another of the observers inside. Izumo could feel the adrenaline pumping in his veins: any time now it was go time.

 

‘The target is heading towards the front door.’

 

‘Alright men, on your positions,’ Seri commanded. That also meant him, Izumo realized and jumped off the window ledge where he was sitting. He ran down two flights of stairs and was right on time, on the street, opening the door of the building where he has been hiding right as the target opened the door of the bar.

 

The target paid him no attention, taking a lighter and a cigarette out of his pocket, and an idea came to Izumo. It wasn’t exactly as they planned, but he thought it would work.

 

‘Excuse me, sir,’ he called out, pulling his own cigarette out of the package. The target glanced his way, obviously displeased that he was being disturbed. ‘Would you be so kind as to borrow me some fire?’ he asked.

 

Their gazes met and the target’s eyes widened.

 

A few things happened in the same moment. A voice in Izumo’s ear reported that Mishakuji has definitely disappeared from the vicinity. Three policemen jumped out of hiding to restrain the target. And the target pushed the lighter, flame first, into Izumo’ss face, doubtlessly hoping to make an opening to escape.

 

Izumo ducked instinctively. All the same, even as he was ducking, he took the flame and made it his own, wrapping it around the target’s wrist until the man, screaming in panic, dropped the lighter and the flame died. Izumo punched him in the stomach then, but it was his time to be surprised.

 

He heard the bones of his hand cracking against the target’s armour before his brain registered the pain. The target smiled and raised his arm to punch back. Izumo noticed something black covering the man’s knuckles and made it his absolute top priority to evade the blow. It didn’t look very promising, considering his crouched position.

 

A slim blade stopped the fist. The target and Izumo alike looked to the side to see Seri Awashima, an angry scowl on her face. She moved her sword up and the blade slid from the black armour, slicing the target’s fingers.

 

The man growled. He made a sudden pirouette and Izumo felt his feet leave the ground under the force of a kick the target delivered to the back of his legs. At the same time, an electric shock left him momentarily paralysed and without any way to break the fall, he landed in a heap, head hitting the ground pretty hard.

 

Frustrated, he did the only thing he could think of: as he regained some semblance of power over his motion, he thrust both hands forward, hoping to grab the target’s leg as he was jumping over him. He did catch something. He thought he heard, through the ringing in his ears, a shout of surprise.

 

Seri shouted something, but Izumo was too focused on blinking away the black dots that suddenly danced in front of his eyes.

 

**})i({**

The PDA beeped. Fushimi glanced at it out of habit, not expecting anything, but the message on the screen quickly caught his attention:

 

“Emergency mission, 10000 JP”

 

He poked the flashing words inviting him to see the details. His eyes widened as he read that the Blue and Red clansmen have managed to capture a Jungle player who carried “vital information” and were escorting him to the Sceptre 4’s headquarters. The mission was simple and as ruthless as Jungle has been from the very beginning: to kill the U-ranked Jungle player before he could spill his guts.

 

Fushimi smiled.

 

He was already on the move by the time he composed the Hirasaka’s number.

 

**})i({**

It was funny how, between one blink and another, the scenery changed completely. One blink he was on the ground and another Seri was helping him up, together with Bando. Yet another blink later, he was sitting in the van they have arrived in. The van was moving and the target was on the floor between him and Seri, growling through the gag and struggling against the bonds that suppressed his aura. It was funny how the next blink did not transport him anywhere else.

 

‘Do you feel better?’ Seri asked quietly. He looked at her and plastered a smile on his face, or at least tried to. Everything felt a little bit fuzzy, so he wasn’t sure how much his facial muscles have obeyed his wish. ‘I completely forgot that you’re not very good in those things,’ she added and Izumo thought he could feel his cheeks burning with a blush. The other Sceptre 4 officers in the van pretended they didn’t hear Seri’s words, which made it both better and worse for Izumo.

 

‘You don’t need to make it sound so bad,’ he protested. He glanced at the captured man, bound like a piglet on the van’s floor. At least his complete sacrifice of dignity hasn’t been in vain, he thought.

 

‘Our ETA is ten minutes, lieutenant,’ Kamo, who was driving, reported. Seri acknowledged and called the HOMRA driver of the other van to tell him they could go ahead and drive around the Sceptre 4’s headquarters to be ready for escorting the prisoner upon arrival. She listened to the reply and acknowledged it before hanging up.

 

‘It seems that Yatagarasu is impatient to have us arrive,’ she said, a small smile on her lips. Izumo laughed shortly. They have not taken HOMRA’s vanguard, afraid that he wouldn’t be able to stay put for as long as the mission required. And to pacify him, Munakata has made him the boss of the arrival committee.

 

‘That kid has-’

 

Izumo never got to finish what he wanted to say. A single gunshot shattered the calm and satisfaction permeating the van as it swerved violently. Izumo barely managed to grab a hold of the handle next to him, trying to not have his head hitting anything too hard and, ideally, not flying across the van to land on Seri. With their audience it would be no fun after all.

 

They stopped hitting a street lamp.

 

‘They must have shot from the back, I didn’t see anything suspicious. They got one of the back tires. I’m calling for help,’ Kamo reported even before anybody from the back could ask what happened.

 

‘Is everybody ok?’ Seri asked, looking around. Izumo followed her gaze, registering that all the officers managed to hold on to something, but the piglet on the floor got thrown close to the door when the van came to its abrupt stop. Seri was already grabbing the man by the bonds, lifting him to a sitting position.

 

‘Funny how it happened right after you sent the other van away,’ Izumo muttered, taking out his lighter, ready to scorch whoever was there.

 

The back door of the van blew open. Instinctively, Izumo raised an arm to protect his eyes. And by the time he has lowered it, everything was over. He saw blood bursting from the target’s neck. He heard Seri’s gasp and looked ahead.

 

Less than ten steps away from the truck, Saruhiko Fushimi stood, a bored look on his face and one hand still outstretched after throwing one of those daggers he was so talented with. In the other hand he was holding his PDA and Izumo heard with eerie clarity how it announced:

 

‘Emergency mission complete. You have passed to J-rank level.’

 

A green light from the screen reflected in Fushimi’s glasses when he glanced at it, the tiniest of smiles tugging the corners of his lips up.

 

It felt surreal. As the meaning of the words sank in, Izumo realized that it hasn’t been an explosion that blew the van open but a gust of fire, HOMRA’s fire. And he felt fury boil the blood in his veins and, before he could even think about it, he had the lighter out, an unforgiving flame whooshing towards the damned traitor.

 

But Fushimi wasn’t there anymore.

 

**})i({**

He didn’t really get to see their faces, but it didn’t matter. Hirasaka transported them through the buildings as soon as they ascertained that the mission was complete, neither of them wishing to be caught. Or, as it would have been, burned alive by Kusanagi’s surprisingly spontaneous and violent reaction.

 

Immediately after the notification that he has now become a J-ranked member of the Jungle, Fushimi received a message that he was going to be picked up by another J-ranked Jungle member and taken to the home base. The message contained also instructions on where he should go and Fushimi didn’t hesitate for the briefest moment.

 

He paid Hirasaka for her help and made his way to the meeting point, not fully surprised to find Yukari Mishakuji already waiting for him there.

 

‘Welcome to the real Jungle, Saruhiko Fushimi. Your progress has been most amazing,' Mishakuji complimented him with a smile. Fushimi managed to keep his face completely emotionless. He has already decided to go with “bored with life” attitude. But Mishakuji didn’t seem bothered in the least. He laughed and made a gesture for Fushimi to follow.

 

‘I’m sure everybody is eager to meet you,’ he said in a pleasant tone. If he had anything against a traitor joining the Green clan, he didn’t let it show at all. ‘So if you follow me: this is the shortest way to our home base,’ he informed Fushimi.

 

‘After you,’ the ex-policeman muttered and Mishakuji laughed again. He kept up his chatter throughout their trip down and through what felt like a maze. He told Fushimi they had multiple exits in various places in the whole Tokyo and that it took ages to memorize everything, which was why Nagare usually included a map with the missions he had for them.

 

Fushimi stayed silent. He did his best to memorize as much of the trip as he could and all of what Mishakuji was saying, no matter how inane it seemed. Thankfully, Mishakuji didn’t require any input from Fushimi and chattered away all the way until the enormous cavern in steel, partly hidden in the darkness.

 

‘That is our headquarters,’ he announced when they stepped in.

 

In the middle, there was a small construction. As they neared it, Fushimi realized it was a room, limited from the cavern by three walls, the fourth one open to where a lone figure was sitting on the ground, some meters away.

 

Kuroh Yatogami. Fushimi wasn’t quite able to not recoil when he saw the long lost Black Dog literally jump into an offensive stance, eyes blazing with fury as soon as he saw him arrive with Mishakuji. He didn’t look any less dangerous without his katana and Fushimi was unpleasantly reminded that he has nearly allowed for the female Strain to be kidnapped by the Green clan. Not to mention that he has very obviously betrayed the Blue clan and the Black Dog’s psychological profile clearly said that he valued loyalty above everything else.

 

Yukari Mishakuji laughed out, amused at new development.

 

‘Kuroh, is that how you greet the new member of our little family?’ he asked the Black Dog in a tone that was a bizarre mix of fondness and mocking. Then he turned to Fushimi. ‘Don’t worry, Fushimi. My cute, little Kuroh can’t reach you here,’ he assured him with a mocking smile and no fondness whatsoever.

 

‘At least until he joins the Jungle,’ a man dressed like a priest commented lightly, briefly shifting Fushimi’s attention towards the bizarre room where he was sitting. With the corner of his eye, Fushimi saw he Black Dog also look at the priest for a moment, before turning back to Fushimi and Mishakuji, a calculating expression on his face now.

 

A feeling of foreboding washed over him.

 

‘Until he joins the Jungle,’ Mishakuji repeated with a scheming smile, eyes shining with delight, his voice almost a purr. Fushimi looked away from him. It sounded like he genuinely was eagerly waiting for Yatogami to join the Green clan. It was true that the Black Dog had a reputation of being an excellent fighter, a reputation he has rightfully earned, and would be a valuable addition to any fighting force.

 

Fushimi didn’t fully understand the situation yet, but it was obvious that while Kuroh Yatogami has fared well after abduction, he was somehow restrained. It surely had to do with the shiny, metal collar on his neck, surrounded by multiple scratches and scars. Just as obviously, Kuroh Yatogami had something against Fushimi. Whether it was because he has betrayed the Blue clan now or has facilitated the attack on the female Strain, it didn’t matter. What did was that obviously the Green clan was willing to have the Black Dog in their ranks. And Fushimi was sure that Yatogami wouldn’t have to go through all that tedious point gathering, since he already pretty much lived with the others.

 

Something needed to be done to prevent that from happening, Fushimi thought. He had no desire to find out which disloyalty the Black Dog would consider less grave: joining the Green clan or letting the traitor walk free.


	11. Chapter 11

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Happy New Year!!!

**Chapter 11**

Because he has requested the second meeting of the Coffee Table Alliance, it was only fair that he took upon himself the organisation of the event. In any case, the school dorm room was hardly an appropriate place and barely fitted them. It also wasn’t what could be called neutral ground since it was the home base of the Silver clan nonetheless. Thus, after a long deliberation, Reisi Munakata has decided to hold the meeting in the Mihashira Tower. His guests could decide themselves whether they considered this a neutral ground or a statement that the Blue clan has taken the official custody of the Slate.

 

The little mind games were his only indulgence as of late.

 

The Colourless King was the first to arrive. She came alone, much to Munakata’s surprise. The tentative surveillance over what was going on in Ikebukuro told him that Mai Ueno has often been seen in the company of some peers. On one occasion, they have even been spotted practicing powers they could have only been granted by the Colourless King: Munakata’s spies reported that it reminded them of what the Black Dog could do, or perhaps more accurately, of what the Black Dog must have been able to do when he has just gotten his ability. At the same time, they were very obviously hiding with the fact that a new clan was forming in Ikebukuro.

 

Perhaps that was why she has arrived alone, he thought. She was dressed entirely in black, in a long, buttoned dress with long sleeves and high collar, hair styled in a tight bun. All of it made her look at least five years older than she was and completely unlike the graduate student who has come to study the Slate. Perhaps, Munakata thought, she wanted to make a statement: she was not the same person as that student. When she moved, he saw something gleam on her chest and couldn’t quite help his eyes widening when he realized that it was a pin with the Colourless clan emblem.

 

‘It is a pleasure to see you after such a long while, Miss Ueno,’ he greeted her as she neared the table, where he was sitting, waiting for his guests.

 

‘Captain Munakata,’ she acknowledged his greeting with a polite bow. ‘Do you have any seating order in mind?’ she asked, glancing at the square table standing in the middle of the room. He assured her that she could sit wherever she wanted to and she surprised him for the second time that day by choosing to sit on his right side, facing the door.

 

Once seated she smiled at him.

 

‘Years ago I read this book, where they would always repeat to not seat with one’s back to the door. The advice has stayed with me. Have you had the pleasure of reading Frank Herbert?’ she asked in a casual tone. That she would like to make small talk was also a surprise, but Munakata could easily play along.

 

‘I am afraid the name is not familiar to me,’ he admitted. ‘At the same time, the notion of keeping all entrances to the room in view can be found in many books. What kind of literature does Frank Herbert write?’ he asked.

 

‘He wrote science-fiction,’ she replied. Before Munakata could ask about Ueno’s literature choices, the small communicator on the table buzzed and Awashima’s voice announced that the Red King has arrived and was on her way up, accompanied by Kusanagi and Yata. He thanked her and was about to turn back to his first guest, when Mai Ueno spoke quickly.

 

‘There is something I would like to tell you before they arrive,’ she said. Despite himself, Munakata stiffened. What was she planning? Before he could wonder or even acknowledge her rushed words, she was already continuing. ‘I know that you have spies in Ikebukuro, so I assume you are aware of my connection to the Dollars. However, I would like the others to remain ignorant of that connection. It is not like HOMRA, which belongs to the Red King entirely, or the Jungle. I do not want any innocent Dollar to suffer from my belonging to that group, which is not my clan.’

 

‘That is a noble notion,’ Munakata allowed, when she paused.

 

‘Some Dollars have attempted to hack the servers of the Jungle,’ she continued, not acknowledging his words. Munakata had to stifle the desire to recoil in surprise. ‘They didn’t find much, unfortunately. Nothing like the location of their base, although I believe it has to be somewhere underground. What they did find was that the Green clan is preparing to do something on the Christmas Eve.’

 

‘Something,’ Munakata repeated, hoping that he sounded as unimpressed as he felt at the vague term. Ueno looked embarrassed, so it must have worked.

 

‘This is the best they have found,’ she admitted. ‘I hoped that you would perhaps have an idea what their aim was. Or that one of the other Kings would,’ she added. Munakata looked at her carefully and she met his gaze without flinching.

 

‘Christmas Eve, eh?’ he muttered. ‘Very well. In any case, this meeting is to try and figure out the plans of the Green King,’ he admitted. Ueno inclined her head.

 

‘Shiro will know,’ announced the Red King, Anna Kushina, walking into the room in that exact moment. Obviously, that was an incredibly efficient manner of getting everybody’s attention focused on herself. Perhaps the most efficient of them all.

 

‘Welcome, Miss Kushina,’ Munakata greeted her. ‘Would you like to elaborate?’ he asked immediately after, ignoring the two lackeys behind her. If he had his choice this meeting would take place without anybody but the four Kings, but the Red clan would never agree to leave their young King unprotected.

 

‘Shiro will tell us, I’m sure,’ the girl replied. She took a seat opposite to Munakata, leaving the place for the Silver King on Munakata’s left side. Her two bodyguards sat behind her, Kusanagi seemingly relaxed, while Yata was studying every corner of the room, as though he was looking for traps.

 

‘You don’t read science-fiction, do you, captain Munakata?’ Mai Ueno asked, when it became obvious that Anna Kushina wasn’t going to speak with them. The eerie girl usually kept quiet, so it wasn’t much of a surprise for Munakata. He wondered what the new Colourless King made out of the Red King.

 

‘I’m afraid that my literary interests lie with different genres. Are you perhaps familiar with Osamu Dazai?’ he asked back. Surprisingly, Mai Ueno did and they kept up the discussion until the arrival of the Silver King. And only when the eternal king in the body of a high schooler did show up in the doorway, followed by his female Strain and Awashima, did Munakata realize that at some point the topic has switched from literature to mental illness.

 

What a bizarre woman, he thought, looking away from the Colourless King to the Silver King, welcoming him and suggesting they start the meeting. Kamo swiftly brought refreshments and disappeared, closing the door behind himself. Munakata glanced at all his guests and cleared his throat.

 

‘As some of us are aware by now, Saruhiko Fushimi has deserted from Sceptre 4,’ he stated, deciding to get that out of the way first. Mai Ueno looked at him in shock. ‘Five days ago, when the Blue and Red clans attempted to take a high-ranked Jungle player into custody, lieutenant Awashima and Mr Kusanagi have witnessed Fushimi gain J-rank in the Jungle game, which as far as we know is the top rank in the Green clan,’ he paused. Now even the Silver King was looking at him with surprise. Opposite to him, Yata grumbled angrily.

 

‘His defection,’ Munakata hesitated again. ‘Is a heavy blow for the Blue clan and, considering his computer skills, for all of us. When he quit Sceptre 4 some time ago, I haven’t thought he would go quite that far. However, this situation made me reconsider another long-time absence among our ranks: the Black Dog.’

 

All heads snapped to him.

 

‘He has been kidnapped-’ Anna Kushina started.

 

‘And not killed,’ Munakata interrupted her, knowing what she wanted to say. ‘The Green clan would have let us know about his death, if only to cause a stir. But perhaps even the Green clan isn’t as foolish as to waste such a formidable fighter.’

 

‘Kuro wouldn’t betray us,’ Neko protested immediately, jumping up to her feet in her sudden outrage at Munakata’s badly veiled suggestion. But she was the only one and Munakata completely dismissed her point of view.

 

‘How can you be so sure when his King is the one who has betrayed him first?’ Mai Ueno asked in a cold tone, surprising everybody. Munakata wondered if she had an ulterior motive for having Dollar members hack the Jungle. Perhaps she has hoped to find him and persuade him to join her? After all, the Black Dog has first been the vassal of the Colourless King.

 

It would have been worth investigation and not for the first time Munakata felt the loss of Fushimi.

 

‘Shiro didn’t betray Kuro,’ Neko protested firmly.

 

‘Neko, sit down,’ the Silver King asked in a gentle tone. Then he turned to the Colourless King and his expression hardened. His voice was ice cold as he spoke the next words: ‘You are quite impertinent for somebody who knows so little about me. I have done all I could, but there were circumstances that prevented me from arriving on time to save Kuroh. A student like you could never understand.’

 

‘Well, that might be true’ Kusanagi spoke up before Ueno could answer to the Silver King’s excuse, although Munakata wasn’t sure she would. ‘But if I was Nagare Hisui, I would present the situation differently,’ he pointed out.

 

‘Exactly,’ Munakata agreed after a pause to let the implications of Kusanagi’s statement sink in. ‘In any case, any speculation is pointless. I just wanted to make you all aware that the Green clan might have recently gotten not one but two formidable allies and, when they move to do whatever it is they are planning, we might not only be facing the most powerful king and two fighters who far exceed most of our clansmen in skill, but three such fighters. And that our online systems are no longer safe at all,’ he added, almost as an afterthought.

 

‘I might help us with what the Green King is planning,’ the Silver King spoke up, much calmer than when he talked to Ueno moments ago.

 

How quickly that boy has accepted the possibility that his friend might be there, pointing a deadly blade at him, Munakata thought. Anna Kushina and the Strain looked much more shaken by that possibility than the Silver King. Not for the first time since Yashiro Isana’s return did he wonder just how much of that high schooler still was there in him, after he remembered all his life as Adolf K Weismann. Perhaps not so much, after all.

 

‘Nagare Hisui would like to unleash the Dresden Slate,’ Yashiro Isana announced. ‘I met with him and he proposed me to join him. When I refused, he promised that soon it wouldn’t matter, because when the Green Clan would have the Slate, they would not try to control it and curb down its power, like the Gold King has done over the years and the Blue King was doing now.’

 

‘But that would mean-’ Anna Kushina started hesitantly and trailed off, as though afraid to voice her thought.

 

‘That everybody could potentially gain supernatural powers,’ Yashiro Isana confirmed sombrely. Just hearing those words made Munakata imagine the chaos and panic that would envelop the world, should everybody, or even a large percentage of people, suddenly developed supernatural powers they had no idea about. He could remember well enough the terror he has felt when his touch has frozen the entire staircase.

 

‘We cannot allow this to happen,’ he said firmly. Yashiro Isana nodded. ‘We have one week to prepare for the Green clan’s attack,’ he announced, drawing surprised glances from everybody. Even, he noticed with amusement, Mai Ueno feigned surprise and quite well also. He thought that he should be grateful for learning she could be quite an actress.

 

‘You think they will strike on Christmas Eve?’ Anna asked. Munakata nodded and explained that some of the officers have managed to do a little bit of what Fushimi could have done himself in a short while. They discovered that the Green clan was preparing to act on Christmas Eve, although could get a hold of no further information.

 

‘I’m sure that man Fushimi has killed had information about this,’ Awashima muttered behind him. She probably spoke a bit too loud, because Yata looked away from the window he was watching since the topic changed from Fushimi to something else and glared.

 

‘I’ll make sure that Fushimi cannot destroy any more of our plans,’ he promised. Munakata lowered his head slightly, to not have to see the hurt lurking behind the fury in Yata’s eyes.

 

‘On a more practical side: we have the date and the place of the Green clan’s attack, don’t we?’ Kusanagi asked. ‘We have a week to dig around Jungle for information on their member list and, simultaneously, up the protection of the Tower to the maximum.’

 

‘I’d say it about sums the situation up,’ Munakata agreed. ‘I suggest we meet in two days from now, with ideas, and start concrete planning of the Mihashira Tower defence.’

 

One by one, they agreed and left. Conveniently, Mai Ueno was the last one to leave and, just as she was about to step out through the door, Munakata spoke up.

 

‘I suppose you have not changed your mind about your participation in the war against the Green clan.’

 

She paused, but didn’t turn around.

 

‘I have no offensive or defensive abilities. What do you expect me to do?’ she asked, quietly.

 

‘The Colourless Kings have unique abilities that could be useful in a battle. The previous could, for example, possess a person and wear them like a puppet,’ he said, even though he was sure she has read the information about the previous Colourless Kings. ‘It might not seem like such a wonderful ability, but if we could hope to possess one of the attackers and tie him up while he would be under your power - well, you see how that could be useful. The Colourless King before that one could see the future. Do you know what your ability is?’ he asked.

 

Mai Ueno turned to him, face expressionless. For a moment Munakata wanted to look away, lest she tried to possess him, but nothing like that happened.

 

‘I can see emotions,’ she said quietly. Oh, Munakata thought. Ueno smiled and continued: ‘Your disappointment right now is spreading like black ink in water, slowly darkening the hope you felt when you stopped me from leaving. Your second-in-command is shocked,’ she paused. ‘I suppose she thinks this is a very invasive ability. And it is. For example, I could see love softening the edges of all her other emotions, any time she glanced at HOMRA’s second-in-command. If this is any consolation, lieutenant, he feels the same.’

 

‘How dare you?’ Awashima exclaimed. Mai Ueno shrugged. Munakata watched her, wondering if it was just a lie. She could simply be good at reading people and achieve a similar result. One had to be blind to not notice the looks Awashima and Kusanagi were giving each other.

 

‘There is no need to doubt me, captain. I cannot convince you of the truth of my words, but I do see all your emotions. I see everybody’s emotions if I focus on them. I don’t think I can switch it off,’ the Colourless King said. ‘In negotiations with the Green King, or indeed anybody at all, I could be of great help. But I don’t think we will be negotiating.’

 

‘Fair enough, I suppose,’ Munakata replied. He didn’t try to hide the disappointment from his voice: if what she has just said was true, it was pointless anyway. ‘I would then ask you to have your Dollars try and dig out as much information as possible.’

 

‘I have no power over Ikebukuro’s Dollars, but I will ask them,’ she said. She bowed deeply and left.

 

‘Sir?’ Awashima asked when Munakata didn’t move away from the table. He sighed.

 

‘She’s hiding something,’ he told his second-in-command. ‘I don’t know if there is another side to her ability that she wishes to keep secret. And if yes: why? Isn’t it a frightening thought? Or it could be that she has some agenda of her own, which makes her refuse to participate fully in our actions. I can only hope she’s not collaborating with the Green King since we have shown her all our cards.’

 

**})i({**

Mai Ueno left the Mihashira Tower and sighed in relief. The request of the meeting couldn’t have come in a worse time and keeping calm must have been the single, most difficult task she has had to complete. Now, that it was over, she closed her eyes and breathed in and out deeply. Then, she turned left and walked purposefully down the street.

 

She turned in the nearest, small alley where the first thing she did was undoing the tight bun, letting her hair fall free. As quickly as she could, she unbuttoned the dress, revealing a tight, jogging top and matching trousers. She gathered her hair into a high ponytail, stuffed the dress into a small backpack that has been waiting for her in the alley and changed her elegant shoes into running shoes that were in the backpack. She checked her phone for messages and then she ran.

 

Nobody who was supposed to follow her would look for a jogger. She hoped.

 

And she could use to get fitter, she thought, going out of the alley from the other side and continuing until the meeting point she has agreed on with her clansmen. The van was already waiting for her and she jumped in without even looking, hoping that nobody managed to follow her. In all honesty, she wasn’t even sure she needed to keep up such elaborate tactics because she was sure Munakata knew she has given powers to some people. Surely her little “clan” wouldn’t go unnoticed for long, no matter what she did.

 

Still. There were other reasons.

 

‘We’ve gone around a bit and checked out the coordinates you gave us,’ Kadota said as soon as the car started. ‘It’s a small, dingy back alley with some backdoors to restaurants and pubs and a lot of trash. Does it make sense?’ he asked, glancing back at her from the passenger seat.

 

That very morning, Mai has received an unsigned letter into her letterbox. It was probably the first time she has received something else than advertisements and she has almost thrown it out with all the spam before realizing that it was actually addressed to her. Inside, there was a short note:

 

“If you want to get a dog for Christmas, I suggest you go to (insert GPS coordinates she really didn’t know by heart). The first door is black and there is no passcode. The second will kill you with electric shock if you touch it before typing 775826649 into the touchpad next to it. Follow the stairs down to the very bottom and then the map I’ve drawn. Your dog’s collar has a passcode as well: qi32cl980056mowjk Some of the characters will not be visible on the touchpad until you’ve almost reached them in the code. Try to stay focused and not make mistakes. Don’t disappoint me. Dogkeeper.”

 

There was a map of, Mai supposed, undergrounds, drawn meticulously under the note.

 

It took her a moment to realize what the message was saying. But when she did, she rushed upstairs faster than she has ever done in her life. In her flat, she rewrote the whole message and redrawn the map, checking ten times if she got the coordinates and passcodes down correctly. By then she had the first passcode memorized as well. She burned the original note and, sending her friend to scout out the area of the GPS coordinates, went for the meeting with Munakata and others.

 

‘Were there any black doors in the alley?’ she asked back, holding her breath while the other four thought about it.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Yes, “Dogkeeper” is a wink at NO6. ;)
> 
> I tried and failed to read Osamu Dazai (yes, I did watch Bungo Stray Dogs ;) ). Way too depressive for me.


	12. Chapter 12

**Chapter 12**

Because of her abilities, Neko was chosen to be the first defence of the Mihashira Tower and her task was to separate the attackers, directing them to where the Blue and Red clansmen waiting, hoping to overcome them in numbers. Because she was hopelessly weak once her illusions were broken, Adolf K Weismann needed to remain with her on the ground floor, ready to whisk her away when the time came, but also to strengthen her illusions.

 

The Green clansmen would not know what hit them. Or so he hoped.

 

‘Shiro,’ the Strain whined, her tone and expression thoroughly miserable. ‘What if Kurosuke will come with the Green clan?’ she nearly cried. She has been asking this question ever since Munakata shared his suspicion. And every time, Weismann gave her the same answer:

 

‘If Kuroh has joined the Jungle, we have no choice but to treat him the same way we will treat Yukari Mishakuji and Sukuna Gojo,’ spoken in what he hoped was a regretful tone. Truly, could she not realize that, if their former comrade betrayed them then he was the enemy? She didn’t seem to have the same problem with Fushimi!

 

Because every time, the Strain looked like she was about to cry, making Weismann feel honestly sorry for her. To her it would mean losing a friend, he knew that was why she had so much trouble coping with it. Even Shiro’s personality within him was overcome with sadness at the prospect, but he knew that it was best to be expecting the worst.

 

‘I don’t want to hurt Kurosuke. I don’t think he would betray us, Shiro. Shiro, what if he joins them just to be able to come and help us?’ she asked. Weismann wished he could share her optimism. But the Colourless King, as much as he disliked her, was right: in a way, he has betrayed Kuroh first, although he hadn’t even known the Black Dog had been in danger.

 

Ha! If they knew he felt no remorse for this!

 

Well, “Shiro” did. And “Shiro” wanted to help his friend, so Weismann was going to try his best, should the Black Dog come as an enemy. But he couldn’t say that to the Strain: she would take it too far. She would focus completely on the other two and they couldn’t risk letting one of the enemies pass too fast. The people on the floors above counted on them detaining the attack for long enough to organize according to the numbers attacking them.

 

‘We will see, Neko,’ he said out loud. ‘Anyway, nothing you can do to him will kill him, so after the fight we can pick him up and bring sense back to his head. Does that sound good?’ he asked. It was the closest he came to sharing his plans with her recently, but it felt like it could motivate her to work.

 

And it seemed to do so. The Strain straightened, taking place next to him, facing the entrance to the Tower. She crossed her arms and looked at him.

 

‘Yes,’ she assured him, determination partly replacing the helpless sadness in her expression. Weismann smiled and the Strain smiled back. ‘Let’s get Kurosuke back,’ she proclaimed.

 

**})i({**

‘Team three, in position,’ reported Yatagarasu through one of the red communicator beads Anna Kushina has given to all of her clansmen.

 

Now everybody was ready and Anna started to feel worry creeping up on her. She has never before really participated in the gang’s activities where fights were concerned. Sure, she has trailed behind Mikoto on many occasions, but- But she couldn’t help feeling helplessly inadequate for the situation at hand. And not for the first time, she wished that Mikoto was there, a proper Red King, instead of her.

 

‘Be careful everybody,’ she spoke into her bead. If she could have it her way, they would not be spreading on the floors below, ready to take on a stronger enemy. At the same time, she knew that her way would not help against the Green clan, which needed to be stopped. So she has stayed silent, while Kusanagi and Yatagarasu discussed tactics with the Blues.

 

‘Don’t worry, Anna,’ Kusanagi spoke through the bead. He was the leader of team one. ‘They might be strong, but they are not stronger than two clans combined,’ he proclaimed with far more confidence than Anna felt.

 

‘Yeah, plus we have great tactics,’ Yatagarasu pointed out and Anna had to agree with both of them. Yukari Mishakuji and Sukuna Gojo, and of course Kuroh Yatogami if he came with the Green clan, were all formidable enemies. One on one with them, probably none of the Red or Blue clan stood a chance. However, the three groups comprising the most of two largest clans in existence should be enough to stop them.

 

‘Of course,’ she spoke into the bead. ‘But do be careful. I don’t want any of you to be hurt,’ she admitted. When nobody replied immediately, she realized it was a naive thing to say, for there would surely be injured people after the night was through. There would perhaps even be casualties, but of that Anna tried her hardest to not think.

 

Mikoto, Tatara, she thought, I hope I’m doing the right thing risking everybody’s lives here. If something happens, will you forgive me?

 

Because, right or wrong, she couldn’t allow the Green clan to get a hold of the Dresden Slate and unleash its power on the unsuspecting world. Her own awakening has been recent enough for her to remember everything clearly and even though she knew exactly what was happening, she has been afraid. She has also seen many of the new clan members surprised at their abilities even after they have been explained to them. She couldn't imagine how it felt to be plunged into this world unaware.

 

Protect our friends, Mikoto, Tatara, she begged. And I will stop Nagare Hisui no matter what it costs me. Watch me.

 

Watch us, she amended, looking up at the man, Mikoto’s friend despite wearing a different colour, standing next to her.

 

**})i({**

Reisi Munakata felt the Red King’s gaze on him and looked down at her. The two of them were standing in front of the Dresden Slate, ready to take on anybody who would get through the combined teams of their people. He had no idea what she was thinking, but she looked determined. Good. They would need determination to get through that night.

 

‘Awashima reporting,’ the voice in his earpiece efficiently shifted his attention away from the little, Red King. ‘Team two is in position, sir,’ she said.

 

‘Very well, lieutenant,’ he replied, needlessly putting his hand against the earpiece. It wouldn’t make Awashima’s voice any clearer, not with the interference of the protection they have put in themselves. ‘You know what to do.’

 

‘Yes sir. Engaging auxiliary power supply,’ she announced. Quieter, Munakata could hear his men shouting commands as the team assigned to dealing with electronic security powered up the Mihashira Tower with its own batteries.

 

‘Going off the grid, sir,’ Awashima reported. Some more conversation murmured in the background, barely audible over the static. The lights blinked and returned. ‘To all men: we are now in complete lock down. I repeat: we are now in complete lock down.’

 

Anything to slow the turncoat Fushimi down, Munakata has said during their last planning meeting, playing his part until the end.

 

‘Auxiliary teams are in positions,’ Awashima reported, moments later. ‘We have visual on the entrance, sir.’

 

‘Excellent, lieutenant. You know what to do,’ he told her and cut the communication, letting his hand drop down listlessly.

 

‘Do you really think Kuroh has joined the Green clan?’ Anna Kushina asked quietly, making Munakata glance at her again. She too had a Sceptre 4’s headset and thus has heard the whole exchange.

 

‘In all honesty? No, I don’t think so. But we have to be ready for either option,’ he said, looking away. Fushimi hasn’t reported anything of that sort, but it could have been that he didn’t manage to. That was why team two had visual on the entrance. If there were only two opponents, Awashima would regroup her team to join the auxiliary teams: the third barrier to the Jungle’s attack. He only had to hope that Neko would manage to correctly direct the enemies from the ground floor.

 

**})i({**

It was time to finally put their plan in action. For two hours now, Nagare Hisui has been watching the clock ticking away the seconds and minutes in the corner of his screen, wishing that he could tap his fingers on something. Yukari has triple checked his nails and make-up and restyled his hair twice. Sukuna has changed games at least fifteen times, always glancing Nagare’s way before starting a new game. Fushimi, who tried his best to look bored, was drumming his fingers on his leg, eyes darting everywhere in the “room”. Even Iwafune looked stressed. Or excited. It was difficult to judge.

 

‘It is time,’ Nagare Hisui said. His words pierced the palpable tension in the air. He could see his small team breathe out in relief as they could finally stop finding something to do as they waited for those very words and he smiled. ‘Tonight, we change the world,’ he announced.

 

Well, strictly speaking it would be in some time, once the Dresden Slate unveiled its full power, but even Nagare wasn’t completely immune to theatrics. And it would be them getting a hold of the Slate that would permit the world to change, so he felt justified in his choice of words.

 

Not that the Green King needed to justify himself in front of anybody.

 

‘Under the new sun, snow hiding in the shadows. The season shifted,’ said Yukari, a cold smile twisting his lips as he looked to see the reaction his bizarre statement had on his plaything. It must have been another of the poems of the late Colourless King, for the hate blazing in Yatogami’s eyes intensified.

 

‘You should stop those stupid poems,’ Sukuna complained, throwing the video game away and grabbing his stick instead. ‘They’re unattractive,’ he spat out viciously and even though Yukari must have known he hasn’t meant it truly, he looked hurt.

 

‘Last moment to change your mind,’ Nagare addressed the Black Dog, but didn’t even get that disdainful look the kid has seemed to have mastered over the last days as answer. Such a pity, he thought, but there was no helping it. For a moment there it seemed that Iwafune was on the edge of convincing the Black Dog to join them, but not quite. Somehow, Fushimi’s arrival has thwarted all their efforts, much to Yukari’s carefully hidden fury.

 

‘Our transport has arrived,’ Iwafune announced. Nagare nodded in acknowledgement. It was time.

 

**})i({**

Tenkei Iwafune smiled. Things were finally moving and he was sure looking forward to seeing how the events would unfold. Who knew that destroying the world would be so much fun? Without a word, he took control of Nagare’s wheelchair and pushed it out of the room gently.

 

‘See you later, my cute, little Kuroh,’ Yukari shouted, waving at the stubborn hostage before turning on his heel and leading the group out. If he was as disappointed as Iwafune that they haven’t managed to convert the Black Dog to Green he didn’t let it show. ‘Be sure to step away when we drop the Slate in, ok?’ he added, amused.

 

Sukuna laughed, running up to Yukari, to tell him something Iwafune didn’t quite catch. It could be about counting the number of defeated to check who was better. It sounded like an idea Sukuna could have: turning everything around him into a game. He jumped away when Yukari attempted to ruffle up his hair, snapping at him to stop treating him like a kid. He was so precious, Iwafune thought fondly.

 

Saruhiko Fushimi, the newest and most surprising addition to the Jungle, got up with a sigh and, looking as bored as ever, followed Yukari and Sukuna. Iwafune noticed that he didn’t try to join the other two, but perhaps that was normal. It was more than obvious that the ex-Blue clansman was not interested in friendship or brotherhood. No, he was in it for- What exactly? It didn’t matter, but he wished he has had the chance to ask him.

 

Walking behind the three of them, Iwafune wondered what he should cook in celebration of their victory. It should be something exceptional, worthy of the exceptional day and Christmas Eve. Worthy of the Christmas gift he would present to Nagare this year: the Dresden Slate and the fulfilment of Nagare’s dream.

 

**})i({**

The van stopped and Mai Ueno closed her eyes, taking a deep breath. The map she has received hinted on multiple exits and, if the projections she has done on the map of Tokyo, together with Togusa, were at least slightly accurate, there must have been exits closer to the Mihashira Tower. It would be illogical for the Green clan to have used the small back alley mentioned in her letter. Right?

 

‘Ok, guys, let’s do it,’ she said, opening her eyes and looking at each of the four. ‘If I’m not out in two hours, get out of here. Tomorrow, find Sceptre 4 and tell them they should assume the Colourless King has either been captured or killed.’

 

She could see they didn’t like the situation and she knew they wanted to go into the undergrounds with her. But she has taken her decision: she would not risk the lives of her friends for something as selfish as what she was going to do.

 

‘We’re not good at dealing with the police. Try to spare us,’ Kadota drawled. Mai smiled: sometimes it was so easy to forget that her friends were honest to god criminals.


	13. Chapter 13

**Chapter 13**

As Mai Ueno arrived to the second door, just some ten steps from the unprotected, black door in the back street, her mind decided to “play” her the theme from “Mission Impossible”. She allowed herself a small smile before focusing. The letter didn’t say what would happen if she punched in the wrong code and she really didn’t want to find out. Even though she knew the passcode by heart, she took out the paper on which she has re-written the letter and studied it in the dim light and then very carefully punched it in.

 

7 - 7 - 5 - 8 - 2 - 6 - 6 - 4 - 9

 

The door buzzed and clicked open. With the slightest hesitation, Mai pushed it open further, revealing a short, empty corridor and the beginning of a staircase, both dimly lit by lamps built into the walls. Mind producing scenarios inspired by all the scary films she has seen, she entered before she could change her mind, trying to tell herself that in this story she was the super-hero. She still jumped probably a full meter up when the door slammed closed behind her.

 

She has had to argue long and loud to go in alone and now, in the dimly lit staircase, she regretted it just a little bit. After all, with or without her friends, she stood no chance against Yukari Mishakuji and Sukuna Gojo, not if what captain Munakata has told her about them was true and the man had no reason to lie to her about it. She could have taken them as company in that case, but then: that was exactly why she couldn’t. Because if she has miscalculated or if the message she has received has been a trap there would be nothing and nobody to save them.

 

And Mai Ueno could never live with herself, if she was allowed to live by the Green King, if something happened to her friends, whom she has pulled into that mess. Even more so since she was going into the underground out of the selfish desire of acquiring a powerful clansman.

 

Therefore, she chose to have them wait outside, keeping the van ready to leave at the smallest notice. If her plan worked, she would leave the underground maze with a formidable fighter, but she might be in a hurry, if something triggered an alarm. If her plan worked, they were heading straight to Mihashira Tower to provide any help they could and that was when she would need their strength. Plus, if she has failed, she needed them to let captain Munakata know that perhaps his man has truly betrayed him, rather than playing a spy.

 

Of course, the captain has never said or even hinted at the fact that Saruhiko Fushimi hasn’t really deserted and turned on his colleagues, but that wasn’t enough to fool Mai. Every time the turncoat was mentioned, everybody from the Blue and Red clans present flared with anger, the vicious magenta of their feelings drowning everything else for a brief moment. Everybody, except for the captain of Sceptre 4, who looked angry and sounded angry but felt worried. It took her a while to realize why. And as much as Mai hoped Munakata was right to trust Fushimi, if only because she suspected he has sent her that letter, she thought he might appreciate to know if he shouldn’t.

 

She still wished she didn’t have to go down the metal stairs alone. Down and down, seemingly without an end. She wished she could at least see the bottom, but it seemed to be fading in the dim light. Surely that was her imagination, she told herself, and continued steadily downstairs, listening carefully for anything that wasn’t her footsteps and their echoes. There was nothing.

 

She didn’t meet anybody on the stairs. She followed the map as fast as she dared, never once hearing anything but the echoes of her footsteps on the concrete and metal. When she finally reached what must have been the hall marked with the large “x” on the map, she hesitated. She knew that the Green clan should be attacking the Mihashira Tower right now and thus the place should be empty, but it did feel like it was too good to be true.

 

Plus, the hall was- Frightening, for the lack of a better word. She couldn’t judge the size at all, because all the walls were drowning in darkness. The entire cavern was, with three exceptions: the small circle of light from the corridor she has just arrived through. A similar circle of light and a doorway to the left, so far she could believe there was some trick or mirrors involved. And a large patch somewhere in what could be the middle of the cavern, lit up by lamps hanging in the air.

 

In that patch of light stood a construction of- a room? It was placed in such a way that sitting inside one could see both entrances, because it was missing one wall. It had a tatami floor and three, greyish walls with posters and bookshelves and even a window. Crowded, it looked like a studio flat. And in front of it, on the concrete floor, laid a human-shaped figure, unmoving.

 

Scenarios of why and how flashed through her thoughts, one worse than another.

 

Mai looked around again, biting her lower lip in hesitation. The darkness could be hiding just about anything, probably including tanks and a small army, if the distance to the other door was anything to judge the cavern’s size by. Or, it could be hiding nothing and there was only one way to find out.

 

She would have run, but a vague thought about uneven, invisible ground, slowed her steps and it felt like an eternity until she arrived to the edges of the light patch. Since looking where she walked made no sense in the darkness and so did looking out for traps, she kept her gaze on the room and the person on the ground. And when she was relatively sure that nobody was waiting in the room, she focused solely on the person, certain by then that it was the Black Dog.

 

He hasn’t moved at all, but she couldn’t see any obvious injuries. He was partly curled in on himself, one hand at his neck, except for the outstretched other arm, bend in the elbow, hand tightly holding a sheathed katana over the tatami floor. A fallen katana stand nearby told Mai that he must have jumped to grab the weapon, or at least has grabbed it with a considerable force. His hair and clothes were a mess and Mai couldn’t stifle a shocked gasp when she was close enough to notice the scars and scratches on his neck. Simultaneously she could tell that the Green clan has treated him well enough: he didn’t seem malnourished or, except for the scratches on his neck, hurt. Except for whatever they have done to render him unconscious and- Trembling? Convulsing?

 

With a frown, Mai kneeled next to him. She was extending her hand to check his pulse, when she noticed a hair-thin line of green jumping nervously from the metal collar tightly closed around the Black Dog’s abused neck, going along the skin. She pulled her hand back quickly and watched. And now that she knew what to look for, she could clearly see green lines, like tiny lightning bolts racing over his skin.

 

Wasn’t the Green King’s ability electricity? She thought and shivered.

 

Then she turned her attention to the collar that appeared to be the obvious source of the electrical discharges, already taking out the letter. It said there was a passcode to the collar, but where- Ah, she noticed a patch that looked like a touch screen, and a small button next to it. She pressed the button and the touchscreen came alive with numbers and letters. Licking her lips nervously, Mai checked the code and looked for the first letter: q.

 

As soon as she pressed it, all letters and numbers changed, making her blink in surprise. She found the “i” and pressed it and all the values on the touch screen changed again. Painstakingly, checking the letter in between each value to make no mistakes, she punched in the rest of the code.

 

3 - 2 - c - l - 9 - 8 - 0 - 0 - 5 - 6 - m - o - w - j - k

 

The green lines disappeared and the collar clicked open. Gently, Mai pushed the Black Dog’s hand away from his neck and pulled the collar off. She put it on the ground next to her and only then checked the man’s pulse. His trembling stopped soon after the collar was removed, but right then Mai realized she had no idea if the healing should kick in automatically, since he was a Colourless clansman, or whether she was supposed to do something.

 

Almost subconsciously, she brushed the long hair off his face.

 

Should she call her “clansmen” to help her get him out?

 

Her ability proved useful yet again right then, no later than she wondered about calling Kadota to come down. A pale, translucent haze that Mai easily read as confusion of the awakening spirit blurred the lines of sharp contrast between the black hair and pale grey concrete. Thus, she was unsurprised when he groaned quietly and his eyes fluttered open moments later. She has had more than enough time to pull her hand back and put both hands on her lap, calling up a small smile onto her face.

 

‘Hi,’ she said when his feelings became intense enough for her to believe he has regained enough consciousness to focus on her. And, sure enough, he moved his head slowly, blue eyes blinking at her lazily. ‘My name is Mai Ueno. I am the Colourless King,’ she introduced herself, watching how his eyes widened at the information.

 

‘Ueno... Mai?’ he repeated in a hoarse, barely audible voice. Then he coughed, face twisting in a pained grimace.

 

‘I’m sorry, I have no idea how to heal you,’ she apologised, biting her lip. He shook his head slightly and looked at her again. His eyes searched her face, but she had no idea what for and it made her a bit nervous. ‘Also, do feel free to make fun of my name. You wouldn’t be the first one to say it sounds like the beginning of a cheesy haiku, I promise,’ she assured him, unable to keep herself from smiling. She used to hate her name when she was a kid.

 

The Black Dog looked at her in silence, so she didn’t say anything more, waiting. When he made a move to pull his outstretched arm, she twitched in surprise, but it didn’t seem as big as his, when he realized he was holding the katana. He looked at it for a full minute, before making an attempt to sit up. When he spoke again, his voice sounded much better.

 

‘My name is Kuroh Yatogami,’ he said and Mai was infinitely glad he wasn’t looking at her, because she was sure her eyes became round as saucers upon hearing his voice. He sounded just like- Oh my god, she thought and forced herself to contain her sudden, childish excitement, especially when she saw Kuroh moving his head to look at her. ‘I used to be the vassal of the 7th Colourless King,’ he added. Neither his tone nor expression betrayed the blade of regret and pain that slashed through his emotions at the use of past tense.

 

‘I know,’ she replied, thankful that the seriousness of the situation that erased whatever was left of her excitement at the fact the Black Dog had a voice similar to the Black Butler in the anime. ‘I came here hoping you would be willing to lend your strength to the 9th Colourless King,’ she admitted, figuring she could just as well get that out of the way. The blue eyes narrowed.

 

‘And if I refuse?’ he asked. The tone of his voice wasn’t exactly aggressive, but something close to it: cold and unwelcoming. However, his feelings were smooth and calm, belying the attempt of intimidation. Besides, if he was hoping to surprise or corner her, he had to try harder, because Mai was ready for that question.

 

‘If you so wish, I will get you to where the Silver King is,’ she said, allowing some deception to be heard in her voice. She didn’t want him to think she didn’t care either way. Not only it would be a lie, but also she did realize that the young man in front of her wanted to be cared for. Be it as a friend or a vassal or even only as an ally, but he wished he wasn’t indifferent.

 

The Black Dog looked away for a moment. And Mai patiently watched his emotions shifting: hiding the disappointment he felt when she mentioned Weismann, as though he was ashamed of it. She knew when he has reached his decision, all the remaining confusion clearing, burning away in the flame of new determination.

 

‘That will not be necessary,’ he said and turned to look at her. ‘I owe you my life for coming here and releasing me from this-’ he paused abruptly. His feelings said clearly: humiliation, but his words were more measured. ‘Unpleasant stalemate. I intend to pay my debt.’

 

Mai smiled and bowed her head, thanking him. Then, to not waste any more time, she got up and helped him to stand up, waiting for him to fasten the katana to his belt. He was slightly unsteady on his feet in the beginning, but as she had them follow the map backwards, his footsteps became steadier and steadier. Before she noticed, he wasn’t leaning against her anymore. At some point, he even went through the trouble of putting his hair in order, without slowing at all. And when they emerged into the back alley, into the light that felt almost blindingly bright in comparison to the underground maze, she realized that most of the wounds on his neck were already gone. So maybe the healing was automatic.

 

‘I have some friends, waiting in a van,’ she explained, grabbing his hand to pull him along, forgetting her manners in her haste. With her other hand, she was already pulling her phone out, but just then the van appeared around the corner of the large street they stepped out onto and she waved instead. The van’s lights blinked once in acknowledgement, but the car didn’t speed up at all, keeping in with the traffic.

 

‘The plan is to get far away from here before the Green clan realizes you’re gone,’ she informed him as they waited for Togusa to pull up to them. He nodded, relief fluttering though his emotions like feathers in a gust of wind. At the same time, a slither of doubt wavered in the other direction, as though he was questioning his decision.

 

‘It’s a good plan,’ he said, his tone betraying none of it. Mai had to smile. The van pulled up and stopped and she opened the back, ushering Kuroh in before jumping in herself and closing the door, telling Togusa that they were good to go.

 

The van started. In the light from the streets, becoming more and less intense in a steady pattern as the car moved, Erika smiled at them and voiced her agreement that Kuroh did need some new clothes, just like Mai has expected. But that was alright, because they have picked up some outfits in different styles and different sizes and there should be some that were fitting. He would even have a choice, she promised, and if he couldn’t decide, she was ready and willing to offer advice. It was clear she was going to enjoy this.

 

Sitting in the corner and making sure that he had all his equipment ready, Walker muttered that he felt sorry for the guy. Mai didn’t need her ability showing her the toxic green jealousy fuming from him to know what he thought about Erika enjoying dressing up another guy.

 

‘What is this?’ Kuroh asked, frowning at the clothes Erika was quickly pulling out from a bag. Walker froze and looked at him. Erika, who was happily babbling about the clothes, snapped her mouth shut so abruptly that Mai was sure she heard her teeth click. While she looked at Kuroh in shock, Mai bit her lip to stifle a smile that was threatening to split her face in half otherwise.

 

‘Can you say something else?’ Erika asked after a moment of silence.

 

‘What?’ the Black Dog asked back, frown deepening. Erika’s and Walker’s excitement sparkled like glitter in the air around them. Erika looked at Mai with wide eyes and there was no more the reason to hold back the smile, seeing a mirroring expression slowly appearing on

 

‘Oh my god, Mai-’ she started.

 

‘I know,’ Mai all but squealed, relieved that she could finally express her exhilaration. ‘It’s unreal, isn’t it?’ she asked and Erika squealed an excited “yes” in reply. The glittery excitement was filling the whole back of the van now.

 

‘Hey, hey, Kuroh, can you say “yes, my Lord”?’ Walker asked. Kuroh looked at him as though he has lost his head. Or grown a second one. He certainly felt like he was regretting getting out of the cavern a little bit and wondering what he has gotten himself into.

 

‘Yes, my Lord?’ he repeated hesitantly nonetheless. Mai wondered if he was already considering whether the speed the van was going at would make it fatal to try and jump out.

 

‘No, no, not like that. Look at Mai,’ Erika commanded. Kuroh glanced at her before focusing on Mai, who was slightly worried what the crazy otaku had in mind. Erika smiled slyly and Mai immediately knew she should be worried, but before she could protest Erika’s next words derailed her train of thought completely: ‘She’s your King now, right? Imagine she gave you an order. Say it the way you would to acknowledge the order.’

 

Kuroh looked at Erika doubtfully then at Mai, who was literally holding her breath. He also glanced towards Walker, as though he expected a hint on how to deal with the situation, but Walker was watching it unfold with the same intensity as Erika. Resignation tinted his emotions. Then, shocking the three of them, Kuroh moved so that he was fully facing Mai, kneeling on one knee. He put one hand on the hilt of his katana and the other flat over his heart. He bowed his head.

 

Mai felt as though it suddenly got very hot in the back of the van.

 

‘Yes, my Lord,’ Kuroh said solemnly. It was perfect. Feeling her head spin, as though she was drunk or about to lose consciousness, Mai gasped. She vaguely heard Walker and Erika cheering and Togusa shouting at them to keep it down and not dance in the back of the van while they were on the move.

 

‘Oi, are you alright?’ Kuroh asked. Mai realized that he has moved closer to her and that she was leaning against the seats, holding both hands pressed to her chest. He looked and sounded worried even without the grey cloud darkening his thoughts. Calling up a shaky smile, Mai assured him that she was.

 

‘Don’t get too distracted,’ Kadota called from the front seat. ‘ETA to Mihashira Tower is ten minutes.’

 

‘Mihashira Tower?’ Kuroh repeated. He sounded confused, but the haziness cleared from his feelings almost immediately after he spoke the name. He must have realized why they were going there, perhaps having been told by the Green clan what they were planning. His determination flared.

 

‘Hey, shouldn’t he be more less my size?’ Walker asked somewhere behind Kuroh. A feeling of foreboding washed over Mai as both she and Kuroh looked towards the overenthusiastic duo.

 

‘We have perfect clothes for you, Kuroh, perfect,’ Erika announced, opening a second bag, which said “cosplay”. Mai wondered if it was really the best idea to dress Kuroh up in Sebastian Michaelis’ clothes. It probably wasn’t, but did she really expect herself to have enough self-restraint and will power to stop it from happening? And really, a part of it wasn’t exactly very different from what the Black Dog was already wearing, was it? Right?

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> For those who don’t know, which I imagine is the most people, Kuroh Yatogami has the same Japanese voice actor as Sebastian Michaelis, Mai’s little, childish crush and the main character in one of my absolute favourite manga, “Black Butler”.


	14. Chapter 14

**Chapter 14**

When only Yukari Mishakuji and Sukuna Gojo appeared in front of the large, glass door of the Mihashira Tower, Adolf K Weismann breathed a sigh of relief. The first part of the plan and indeed all the tactics they have come up with, relied on the Strain managing to separate the enemies, so that designated groups could attempt to stop them and eliminate them. If Kuroh Yatogami has come, wearing Green, Weismann wasn’t sure Neko would have managed to keep her focus and do her job. And the safety of the Dresden Slate was infinitely more significant than a single life.

 

‘Let’s get the show started, Neko,’ he said quietly from where they were hiding. The Strain nodded curtly. He held her hand to channel his strength into her and moments later, Seri Awashima and Izumo Kusanagi walked out of the darkened back of the reception area, stopping not far from the entrance.

 

‘Woho, so many points for the beginning!’ Sukuna Gojo enthused. He twirled the large stick in his hand with astonishing ease and a scythe-like, green blade appeared at one end. The illusionary Awashima and Kusanagi took out their weapons in reply.

 

‘Indeed, Sukuna, today we’ll explode our point counts,’ Yukari Mishakuji agreed, a cold smile stretching his thin lips as he slowly, deliberately, took out his katana. ‘I take you up on your challenge, kid. But let’s not count heads. Let’s count the points,’ he proclaimed.

 

‘You’re on, damned glitter man,’ Gojo agreed.

 

In the space of an eye blink, they moved. The smashed glass of the entrance door flew inwards in sparkling shards. The Strain squeaked in shock or fear and Weismann tightened the hold on her hand, feeling it move away slightly. He didn’t even have the time to think “they are fast”, before the green scythe and the slim blade slashed through the two illusions which didn’t even have the time to properly prepare a defence. Of course, they were slower than the originals, but that didn’t matter.

 

The moment the enemy’s weapons reached the illusory clansmen, the illusion exploded in a storm of pink petals, hopefully obscuring Mishakuji’s and Gojo’s vision for a moment and confusing them a little bit.

 

‘Now,’ Weismann muttered and, before the petals of the burst illusion disappeared, the whole entrance of the hotel became riddled with traps and contraptions that could just about be real: wired bombs, hanging axes, laser sensors. With any luck, Gojo and Mishakuji would believe this was real, not the empty hall with all but three doors bolted shut.

 

‘Ah, it appears that we have been tricked, Sukuna,’ Mishakuji spoke, looking around with narrowed eyes. Looking around himself, Weismann noticed that the Strain has even put some glass on the floor: impressive.

 

‘It’s that stupid cat woman,’ Gojo growled, also looking around. ‘Is this the real welcome? Do you think if we blow all those bombs the whole Tower will fall?’ he asked.

 

‘I wonder,’ Mishakuji muttered. He was turning slowly on his heel, careful to not step on anything, until he spotted a glass shard next to his foot. He stomped on it and it made no sound whatsoever. Mishakuji smirked. ‘Sukuna, I think it’s all fake,’ he said.

 

No later than the words were out of Mishakuji’s mouth, Gojo pounced on one of the traps, snapping the illusion in half and drowning them in another storm of pink petals, but this time, Mishakuji didn’t wait for them to disappear: he dispelled them with a vibrant whirlwind of his Colourless aura.

 

By accident or not, he directed the whirlwind towards Weismann’s and Strain’s hiding place and Weismann had no choice, but to pull the girl out of there, jumping away from the aura that looked sharp and dangerous. It shattered the desk they have been hiding behind.

 

‘The Silver King himself,’ Gojo proclaimed and Weismann realized he has jumped out into the open, with the two enemies now clearly aware of his presence and whereabouts. The Strain hid behind him, curling up on herself as if to make herself disappear.

 

‘Such a pity,’ Mishakuji started with a mocking tone. ‘I’m sure that if my cute, little Kuroh knew who our welcoming committee would be, he would have come with us. He would have wanted to thank you in person, Weismann,’ Mishakuji laughed. The Silver King stiffened, uncertain of the meaning of the enemy’s words.

 

Thus, he was completely unprepared for the Strain’s reaction.

 

‘Give Kurosuke back,’ the girl screeched, her fingers suddenly digging into Weismann’s arms like claws. He twitched and realized she was about to cast another illusion and she was drawing too much power from him and-

 

‘Don’t!’ he called, but it was too late. The world twisted and turned and suddenly they were all four standing on a glass floor, which reflected everything perfectly. The walls and ceiling were replaced by shifting, dark colours. A closed door floated between them and the two enemies, who looked as confused as Weismann felt: this was not at all like Neko’s usual illusions. It was darker and sharper and- weirder?

 

Floating furniture and disproportionate, broken toys were everywhere, moving above the glass floor that reflected everything.

 

Mishakuji made an irritated sound and moved to slash through a pink, plush cat with a creepy smile and an eye missing. But the cat was away in a flash, reappearing behind Mishakuji, now with its push mouth open and full of sharp, gleaming teeth and a starless, gaping emptiness.

 

Gojo screamed and hacked at it, before it could reach his comrade, but the plush disappeared again before he could hit it. Behind the Silver King, the Strain growled and it was like nothing Weismann has heard before. If she wasn’t still holding on to him, he would have probably moved away, if only to break the intensity of the illusion by cutting her off his power. He didn’t like how cold she felt suddenly, like an endless, sunless abyss.

 

‘Not so smart anymore, are you?’ the Silver King asked when he was sure his own voice wouldn’t tremble in shock of what he was seeing. He decided to play along and definitely not look back at the Strain, whose hand still gripping his shoulder tightly was now partly obscured by white cloth with a frill along the edge.

 

Now if only he knew which way the entrance was and which way the doors Mishakuji and Gojo were supposed to take.

 

**})i({**

Standing well away from the Tower, in the open backdoor of the truck they have arrived in, Saruhiko Fushimi could only see faint outlines of the illusions. What he could see clearly, much sooner than he has expected, was the Silver King’s Sword of Damocles. He couldn’t decide whether this was a good or a bad sign, although he started leaning towards the latter choice when the illusion seemed to spill from the building, tendrils of glassy floor covering the ground around, dark fumes obscuring the entrance.

 

What the hell was the Silver clan playing at?

 

‘Oi, Fushimi, any luck getting into their systems?’ Iwafune called out, snapping Fushimi out of his thoughts. He glanced at the priest, standing behind the Green King’s wheelchair, before turning back to the computer in front of him. He still had to play along with them, or else he risked being the first casualty of that night. Hardly desirable.

 

‘I can confirm the presence of three Kings in the Tower,’ he reported calmly, fingers flying on the keyboard. It was just like he, like they all, expected and he didn’t look away from the screen when Nagare asked him about the colours, nor when he replied, stating the obvious: ‘Silver, Blue and Red. I believe the Blue and Red Kings are guarding the Slate.’

 

‘Oh? The Colourless King hasn’t come?’ Nagare asked, mocking. And this once Fushimi was glad he had an excuse of watching the screen fixedly, because he wasn’t sure at all whether he would manage to keep a straight face.

 

He hasn’t received any reply from the Colourless King, but that was normal. He hasn’t expected any. Unfortunately, he has also been unable to confirm that she has received his message or whether she decided to follow his instructions. The Jungle still had a very weak hold on Ikebukuro and the governmental security cameras had their limits when it came to dealing with organized gangs. Thus, Fushimi hasn’t been able to follow the Colourless clan, or the Dollars for that matter, as well as he or Nagare Hisui would have liked.

 

‘We expected she wouldn’t come. She seems to be keeping to herself, playing house with those few, silly clansmen. She appears to wish to follow Ichigen Miwa’s path, rather than the Kings before and after him,’ Iwafune pointed out. The Green King agreed, praising Mai Ueno for being reasonable and not risking her life stupidly. Clearly, neither of the men had the slightest doubt about their imminent victory. Fushimi had to wonder whether they had some hidden weapon or advantage: after all they were against three clans united.

 

‘In any case, the Tower is off the grid. I need to hack into their security system to gain any sort of control of locks, electricity and traps,’ he reported, changing the topic. He wanted to add that it was almost like the Blue clan knew how to hinder him the best, but decided against it. Anything that could bring suspicion to his person at this moment was highly undesirable.

 

A sudden, popping noise and a shockwave from the direction of the Tower caught Fushimi completely unaware. He flew off his hair and hit the front wall of the van.

 

When he regained his bearings, realizing that nothing has happened to the van, he half walked, half stumbled to the door, checking on the Green King and Iwafune. For a split of a second, he imagined the Green King’s broken back or cracked head, but his hopes died as soon as he poked his head out of the van: they have both been thrown back, just as much as he had, but the wheelchair seemed to have protected Nagare from harm.

 

Fushimi made an irritated noise and jumped out to pretend he wanted to help Iwafune off the floor.

 

‘What the hell was that?’ the priest complained, brushing his clothes once he was back on his feet. Fushimi glanced back towards the building, seeing the white-haired teenager against a bent door frame and the Strain rushing up to him.

 

‘I’d say that Yukari and Sukuna have gotten through the illusion,’ Nagare replied, a serene smile on his face. ‘I am very proud of those boys,’ he added and turned to Fushimi. ‘Make me proud as well and get through to their systems, Saruhiko,’ he said.

 

‘Tsk, don’t treat me like I was your son or something,’ Fushimi grumbled, but went back to the computer without any further delay. He knew already that getting into Mihashira Tower’s systems wasn’t impossible just as well as he knew that it would take far longer than Nagare Hisui had the patience to wait for. And, sure enough, Fushimi was barely past the first level of security when the Green King announced he was going in.

 

For good measure, he turned away from the computer sharply, voicing his protest at the same time as Iwafune did:

 

‘Mishakuji and Gojo still haven’t gone through all the traps. You’ll waste your time getting through them and when-’ he trailed off abruptly when he registered the smile Nagare Hisui was watching him with. In that moment he was entirely convinced the Green King has seen right through his game and just for a moment he thought that was, after all, the end.

 

‘Don’t worry, Saruhiko,’ the Green King said, his pleasant tone belying the gleam in his eyes and the cold smile stretching his lips. ‘There is one thing nobody knows: a joker in my sleeve, you could say. We will not lose tonight.’

 

A feeling of foreboding washed over Fushimi. Something nobody knew? What could it be? What have they all missed in the Green King’s plan?

 

He couldn’t ask. In any case, Iwafune was already wheeling Nagare towards the building and Fushimi watched them go, for once not bothering to hide the dislike in his expression. He has had seriously enough of playing along with the despicable Green King and the sooner that damned man was away, the sooner Fushimi could drop the act. So really, he was fine if Hisui wanted to exhaust himself by smashing through the fireproof doors every three metres on every single floor of the Tower.

 

At the entrance, Nagare Hisui stepped off the wheelchair, started glowing electric green and dashed off like a lightning. Despite himself, Fushimi shuddered, hoping that captain Munakata knew what he was going to face. Not that it was his problem anymore, he thought, turning back to the computer, already wondering if he could try to follow the fight from the van. His mind was already turning around the solutions when he caught, with the corner of his eye, a sight he hasn’t expected.

 

A fog. It wasn’t an illusion, because Neko was still fussing over Shiro, who has barely regained his consciousness it seemed. There were no meteorological or physical grounds for its appearance there and then and- Exactly where Tenkei Iwafune was standing.

 

As though in a dream, Fushimi watched Shiro, the Silver King, jump two meters in the air, grabbing Neko on his way and landing them away from the spreading tendrils of the fog. Vaguely, he heard him exclaim, but when the words filtered through they hit him like a hammer. Like a new Sword of Damocles falling from the high heaves.

 

The captain needed to know.

 

He didn’t think much. In fact, he has grabbed the headset before he realized he has moved, his other hand already typing the access code to the channel always reserved for open, full team communications during larger operations. The second it was in, he had the headset on and was speaking in the microphone, foregoing all greetings and pleasantries and explanations.

 

‘Captain, the Grey King has allied himself with the Green King. He is at the ground level now, going into the building. I repeat-’

 

But he didn’t. He realized his mistake when Iwafune turned to look at him. The van might have been very far from the building, but the priest had excellent hearing. Now Fushimi knew why: to fight in the legendary Grey clan’s absolute fog.

 

With surreal clarity, he saw the Grey King take out a gun and point it his way. He saw him pull the trigger and turn around, disappearing into the fog. He saw Shiro and Neko turn his way, following the Grey King’s aim. And even as he fumbled for the sword he no longer had at his hip, Fushimi knew it was too late. Staring death in the eye, he realized he couldn’t move.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Five points to those who have guessed that Neko’s last illusion was Pandora Heart’s Abyss ;)


	15. Chapter 15

**Chapter 15**

Waiting was by far the worst part of the plan, Misaki Yata thought, fighting to not fidget. He was the leader of the team and desperate to act like it. Gone was the grumpy kid, too hot-headed to do anything right. It was high time he went away. That’s what Yata kept repeating to himself ever since he arrived in position with his team and had to wait, but it didn’t help the anxiety at all. Thus, he was relieved when he heard Sceptre 4’s second-in-command speak through the earpiece that has been forced onto him for the sake of communication.

 

‘Visual of the enemy confirmed,’ she said, voice distorted by static, but Yata was sure he could hear relief in it as well. He closed his eyes and breathed in, then out. The enemy was here.

 

‘I confirm the enemies are Yukari Mishakuji and Sukuna Gojo only,’ Awashima spoke again, moments later. Yata opened his eyes. He knew she didn’t mean the Green King and the damned turncoat didn’t come and indeed she confirmed observing motion near the van parked some distance away. But that meant- ‘Following through with plan B, I regroup with the auxiliary teams.’

 

‘Understood,’ Kusanagi replied through the earpiece. Awashima told them, teams one and three, that she wished them luck and Kusanagi answered in a similar fashion. Listening to them pretending to be professional, Yata felt like puking, but he didn’t say anything about that out loud. Instead he took out Anna’s bead and spoke into it.

 

‘Damned Blues putting us in the first line while they wait and watch,’ he grumbled. Some of his teammates behind him muttered with displeasure.

 

‘Ah, Yatagarasu, you might want to put the mike away from your mouth next time you say something like that,’ Kusanagi told him, both through the earpiece and the bead. Realising his mistake, Yata felt his cheeks burn.

 

‘I would like to remind you that your task is to merely hold back Mishakuji and Gojo and fall back before they can inflict too much damage, letting Sceptre 4 take care of them,’ Awashima spoke sharply through the earpiece. Yata winced, but he couldn’t simply back down and apologize, no matter how mature a team leader he was now.

 

‘If it’s so easy then why are you not taking the first hit?’ he asked, angrily.

 

‘What’s going on, Yata?’ Kamamoto asked him and this time Yata thought to wrap his hand around the mike, before replying.

 

‘It seems the Black Dog’s not out there, so team two is moving onto plan B,’ he said quickly, ignoring what Awashima told him through the earpiece. It wasn’t like he cared what the damned Blues thought anyway. He smirked and lifted the bead to his face again. ‘Let’s show the damned Blues what we’re made of and stop both Mishakuji and Gojo,’ he suggested, earning himself some cheers from the HOMRA members around him.

 

‘I might be too old for your enthusiasm, Yatagatasu, but I too don’t like when the Blues order us around under the guise of being the strongest. Let’s do our best,’ Kusanagi answered. Yata could hear the smile in his voice. He uncovered the mike of Sceptre 4’s communication device and turned to look at his team.

 

‘No blood! No bone! No ash!’ he shouted, hoping all Blues heard him loud and clear. His team shouted with him the second time and the third.

 

And afterwards, they waited. It was thoroughly anticlimactic, but it appeared that Neko was much better at delaying the attack than anybody has thought she would be. Not to mention that Mishakuji and Gojo had to go through a series of traps meant to exhaust them as much as possible before they hit the human obstacles on their race to open the path for their King.

 

With Awashima gone from her vantage point, the task of relaying information about what happened outside was delegated to the small team of Blues operating the Tower's security systems. That they were quiet meant they had nothing to report, Yata supposed, which was probably good. They would warn them if the Green King has made a move, because then everybody was to step away and let him pass right through. Of course, there were traps to exhaust him as well, but no clansman stood chance against a King.

 

At some point a tremble ran through the building and the most horrible thoughts of the Green clan simply exploding the whole ground floor, rather than fighting through the illusions, aiming to crash the whole structure, filled Yato’s mind. He supposed they could get the Dresden Slate out of the rubble afterwards.

 

Fortunately, it wasn’t anything like that. A few minutes after the tremble, one of the Blues reported, his voice shaking as though he has seen something terrifying, that Mishakuji and Gojo have broken through the illusion. Which meant they were on their way up.

 

Finally!

 

‘Alright, everybody,’ Yata called out. ‘One of those bastards is on his way up here. Let’s show him what HOMRA is made of!’ he shouted. His teammates cheered loud and Yata thought briefly that it felt nice. He could get used to this. ‘Let’s make him regret ever coming here,’ he shouted louder and the other clansmen cheered louder in reply.

 

‘No bone! No blood! No ash!’ they yelled in unison, this time right on time. No later than the last word was spoken, the fire door in front of them got slashed into pieces and a small, light haired kid holding a green, crackling scythe, walked in.

 

Sukuna Gojo.

 

Which, Yata realized with some worry, meant that right about now Kusanagi was facing the worse opponent: Yukari Mishakuji.

 

‘Hah, you see to be pretty energetic for a point source,’ the kid mocked, stopping a few metres away, legs slightly apart, the scythe casually propped against his shoulder. If he was in any way intimidated by meeting such a numerous group, he showed none of it. Then again, Yata knew first hand that Sukuna Gojo was a formidable enemy. Even with all the HOMRA members present, they should probably be happy if they managed to slow him down without suffering casualties.

 

‘Ah, damn it, I drew the short straw,’ the kid said after looking at the gathered Red clansmen. Yata narrowed eyes at him as he scowled. ‘Yukari will for sure get more points now,’ he said with distaste. And just like that, all of Yata’s cool-headedness evaporated.

 

‘What did you say?’ he growled, the stick he was holding bursting into flames. Gojo smirked mockingly and confirmed that he was disappointed by the amount of points he’d get for taking down the Red clansmen present.

 

With a yell, Yata pounced, but when he landed, Gojo wasn’t there anymore. He heard the kid laugh and turned around right on time to see and dodge the green scythe that was rushing towards his neck. He missed what happened immediately after, but the shouts of his comrades told him they have also charged into action.

 

Gojo evaded them all gracefully and then turned to attack, scattering the group all around. He looked like he was having the time of his life and Yata swore to himself he was going to scratch that smile off the impertinent face.

 

His attack was met with the scythe and a smirk, but at least this time the brat hadn’t had the time to get away. Fuelled by that partial success, Yata pushed in two more attacks that got parried before Kamamoto’s arrival forced Gojo to jump away. Akagi got him there, almost managing to touch the Green clansman with his baseball bat.

 

Static cracked in Yata’s earpiece, throwing him off his next attack. Angrily, he was about to get rid of the now useless device, but before he could, he heard Kusanagi speak.

 

‘Sorry Seri, we couldn’t keep him for long,’ he said. He sounded like he had trouble breathing and worry immediately clouded Yata’s senses. He had to shake it off, telling himself that Kusanagi was ok. ‘Mishakuji is on the way up now,’ HOMRA’s second-in-command added. The words were followed by a few, heavy breaths. Yata was about to ask what has happened, but Awashima was faster to speak.

 

‘Understood,’ she replied, all coolness and professionalism. For a split of a second Yata hated her. ‘We’re ready for Mishakuji. Take care and get out of the way,’ she recommended. Kusanagi confirmed. Right, now he really didn’t need the earpiece anymore, Yata thought.

 

‘Yata, watch out,’ he heard at the same moment and instinctively stepped to the side, the communication device forgotten. The green scythe buried itself into the floor exactly where he was standing before.

 

‘Any good news in there?’ Sukuna Gojo mocked. ‘How’s the other team doing against Yukari? Or is there nobody to speak to anymore?’ he asked, gleeful. With a furious growl, Yata jumped at him, attacking as fast as he could, almost missing a step when he realized he has forced Gojo into defensive. Unfortunately it only lasted a moment, before the kid pirouetted away and Yata, as well as everybody else, had to jump or be slashed with the scythe.

 

‘Damn, that kid’s good,’ Akagi panted. Yata was also breathing heavily by then and so were, he noticed, all the others. Even Sukuna Gojo, but while they were weary and hesitant, he appeared to be having the time of his life.

 

Yata had a sudden idea.

 

‘In any case, if you’re in it for points than you are losing, since Mishakuji has passed the first team and is on to the next level,’ he said. Immediately, a scowl replaced the delighted expression on Gojo’s face. Yata smirked: at least he has managed something. ‘But I guess not all people can be really good.’

 

‘I’ll show you good, you red trash,’ Sukuna Gojo hissed.

 

He attacked like a lightning, striking so fast Yata has barely had the time to raise his weapon to stop the scythe from slashing him in half. Then, before he had the time to think, he pushed the kid backwards, where Kamamoto and Bando were waiting. They attacked in unison and Gojo could only avoid one of them. But even hit by Bando, he has managed to get away.

 

And now, he was angry.

 

Yata knew this wasn’t good, but he couldn’t help feeling the satisfaction for managing to shake up the infuriating brat. He ducked from the next attack of the scythe and dared a counter that just barely missed the Green brat. In fact, Yata was sure his clothes have been singed. He smirked in satisfaction.

 

Sukuna Gojo erased that smirk from his face in a split of a second. Right after escaping from Yata’s attack, he turned to the others and Akagi wasn’t quite fast enough in getting away. The scythe sliced clean through the metal rod he was using as weapon and continued undisturbed towards his neck.

 

Somehow, Akagi managed to turn and the scythe slashed deep into his shoulder instead, his pained scream everything Yata could hear for a moment, the bursting blood everything he could see.

 

He forced himself out of his stupor and charged, pouncing on Gojo before Akagi has even fallen to the ground. Gojo saw him coming. He parried the blow Yata was sure should have slammed anybody into the ground and threw Yata away.

 

He skidded to halt not far from a wall, somehow remaining upright, and had just enough time to get his bearings back before Gojo was charging for another attack.

 

‘Captain, the Grey King has allied himself with the Green King. He is at the ground level now, going into the building. I repeat-’

 

Fushimi’s voice nearly shouted through the earpiece Yata has forgotten to take off, finished too abruptly by something that could have been a distant gunshot, paralysing Yata with shock for a moment. It would have been the last moment of his life, because Sukuna Gojo did not waste opportunities, but Kamamoto was there and just barely managed to kick Gojo off course.

 

‘Yatagarasu, get a hold of yourself, there’s no time to space out,’ Kamamoto yelled, landing and moving back into an attack position. But the words fell on deaf ears. Somehow, Yata immediately realized two things that made it feel like reality was slowly crumbling around his feet.

 

Saruhiko Fushimi has not betrayed the Blue King. And. That was a gunshot Yata has heard just as the desperate message stopped.

 

Heart racing a mile a minute, Yata pressed the earpiece into his ear and shouted into the microphone, demanding his friend to answer, to explain, to speak up. To let him know that what he thought he heard hasn’t just happened. Some distant part of his brain realized that he was starting to sound more and more hysterical with each second Saruhiko wasn’t answering, that his hands were shaking.

 

‘Ho-oh, did that pitiful monkey turn out to be a traitor after all?’ Sukuna Gojo asked. Somehow, his voice filtered through to Yata and he stopped shouting for a moment, turning to where the Green clansman was standing, his weapon casually propped against his shoulder, a mocking smile on his face and a gleam in his eyes. ‘If that is so then he got what he deserved. He can go rot with that stupid, old King of yours,’ he laughed.

 

Gojo, that brat, laughed. Cheerfully. Because Saruhiko died.

 

Something snapped.

 

The edges of his vision blurred red.

 

Somebody shouted.

 

The last thing Yata was consciously aware of, before the haze of red took everything away, was the way Sukuna Gojo’s eyes widened, suddenly, in a space of a heartbeat, so close as though Yata has somehow jumped the distance between them.


	16. Chapter 16

**Chapter 16**

Ten minutes wasn’t nearly enough to explain all of the plan that has been agreed on with the Silver, Red and Blue Kings, especially since Mai thought it particularly important to tell Kuroh she thought Fushimi has made it possible for her to pick him up in the cavern. And Kuroh was putting up a fight against wearing Sebastian’s uniform. Disappointingly, he won that fight by pointing out that the sleeves were too stiff and would impair his movements. However, since he ended up wearing Hei’s black coat, which was made of a much softer cloth, Mai was going to somehow survive the disappointment. She only hoped that the green lining of the coat wouldn’t be understood as some subtle message by those defending the Mihashira Tower.

 

The van stopped on a red light. Erika and Walker were giving Kuroh a crash course on “Darker than black” and the latter was too polite to tell them he didn’t care at all. Mai looked out through the front seats, trying to see where they were.

 

‘We should be arriving soon,’ Kadota told her. He glanced down at his phone and sighed. ‘It seems that there is a new mission on the Jungle game interface: to go towards Mihashira Tower and cause trouble. It’s a fairly high-point mission and should attract just about every one of those who have a more criminal inclination,’ he informed her. Immediately, Kuroh was next to her, focused and intense as he asked how Kadota knew it.

 

‘We have some friends who decided to join the game to try and follow what they would be doing in Ikebukuro,’ Togusa replied in a monotonous voice. The pedestrian light turned read and he put in the first gear. Instinctively, Mai held the seat tighter.

 

‘I’ll take care of them,’ Kuroh promised, sounding conflicted. He has clearly stated, when they were talking before, that he wanted to fight Mishakuji. And Mai wanted him to, because there weren’t many people able to take on the Green clansman.

 

‘Now, now, Kuroh, don’t get greedy,’ Erika laughed, appearing on the fighter’s other side, patting his back. ‘It’s not like you have to do everything by yourself either: that’s what we’re here for.’

 

‘We want some fun too,’ Walker commented from further back. Mai watched as Kuroh’s emotions shifted from resignation and the overwhelming feeling of duty to warm-coloured form of satisfaction.

 

The van started and they all sat back down on the floor. As she was turning to sit, Mai thought she saw a black bike overtake them and smoothly slide onto their lane. The helmet gleamed in the street lights.

 

‘We thought it might come to that, so we called in some help,’ Kadota explained offhandedly.

 

‘Shizuo and Simon will come,’ Erika announced cheerfully. Togusa muttered that apparently so would the Black Rider and Mai felt her eyes widen at the information. Was the bike she has just seen-

 

‘I thought you didn’t have a clan,’ Kuroh commented with a small frown. He didn’t appear worried though, if anything he was more relaxed to hear that there would be people dealing with the Jungle players.

 

‘Well- I have those four and you?’ Mai replied sheepishly. And then, because he kept looking at her, waiting for an explanation, she continued: ‘And before I became the Colourless King I might have been a part of a certain, ah, illegal organization some refer to as the colourless gang of Ikebukuro. The people now mentioned are a part of the same organization, as are the four here in the car,’ she explained. She could easily tell that Kuroh didn’t like what he was hearing.

 

‘Jungle wanted to weed us out of Ikebukuro,’ Erika started, far too cheerful for the words she was saying. Then again, Jungle has failed so far, so she had every reason to be happy about it.

 

‘So we’re going to show them what a real gang is,’ Walked finished, a somewhat terrifying smile on his face.

 

'I have never heard about Ikebukuro gangs,' Kuroh informed them, seemingly deciding to not go into further details on the topic. Erika patted his back enthusiastically and assured him that now that he was a part of Mai’s clan he should join the Dollars as well and that Taro would surely be happy to have him. Kuroh’s expression didn’t even twitch, but Mai could tell he was strongly against the idea.

 

The van stopped.

 

‘That’s our final stop, kids,’ Togusa intoned. He and Kadota unfastened their seatbelts, while Erika and Walker started gathering up their things. Kuroh grabbed the hilt of his katana, closing his eyes briefly, to focus. Erika slid open the door and Mai remembered one more thing she needed to do before they jumped into action.

 

‘Hey, Kuroh, can you wait a second?’ she called, fishing out a pin from her pocket. She showed it to him when he turned to ask her what she wanted. It was the emblem of the Colourless clan and he immediately recognised it, eyes widening minimally. Mai smiled. ‘We all have one,’ she said, pointing to her chest, where the pin was attached. ‘You should have one as well,’ she added and moved to pin it on his coat, profiting from the fact that he was somewhat frozen in surprise.

 

‘Welcome back in the Colourless clan, Kuroh,’ she said, smiling up at him once the pin was firmly in place. He blinked and blushed slightly, but that was nothing next to how his happiness and gratitude bloomed, like a rose on a fast-forward video. Both the expression and the feelings were quickly stifled by the fighter, but Mai wasn’t likely to forget seeing it.

 

‘I am back,’ he said, bowing his head slightly. And if his determination shone bright before it was nothing compared to the blaze that engulfed him now.

 

Light on his feet, Kuroh jumped down from the van and held out a hand for Mai, wordlessly offering to help her down. She took it, not so much because she needed it but to acknowledge the gesture.

 

‘I parked a bit away, to not get the van caught in the fight, since we still gotta get back to Ikebukuro afterwards,’ Togusa explained, pointing to the alley they should take.

 

‘Let’s hurry,’ Mai suggested. They jogged down the alley, meeting Shizuo and Simon on the other end. Both glanced at Kuroh curiously and he glared at them in reply, especially when they casually greeted Mai. She could see his outrage that they didn’t respect the Colourless King, but there was no time to explain the situation to either side.

 

She could already see the Tower, further down the street, but as they turned to go there, their path was blocked by a dozen people wearing futuristic, black and green helmets, fully covering their faces. Damn it, she thought, instinctively taking a step back.

 

She was the only one to do so.

 

Next to Mai, Walker cracked his fingers, smile widening. Kadota changed the grip on the large baseball bat he took. Mai knew that he usually preferred metal, but decided this time that metal and electricity were a bad combination. He was probably right.

 

‘So,’ Shizuo drawled. ‘Those are the Jungle monkeys?’

 

‘Some of them are pretty good,’ Kuroh warned him in a tight voice. Shizuo took a drag of his cigarette, hiding his appreciation for the warning.

 

‘We’ll see about that,’ he said. He hit his fist against an open hand and glanced at Mai. ‘Weren’t you supposed to be somewhere else, Shrimp?’ he asked. For a split of a second, Mai worried that Kuroh might punch him, but nothing like that happened.

 

‘Yeah,’ she admitted. ‘Kuroh and I will be going on ahead. Please don’t die, guys,’ she added before she could stop herself. Then, she turned to Kuroh and was about to ask whether he could open the path, when a second group of Jungle players arrived from behind, far more numerous. Impossible to leave six people to deal with both groups, Mai thought. She could sense Kuroh’s feelings echoing hers.

 

‘Fine, Yukari has to wait,’ the Black Dog spoke through gritted teeth.

 

He moved into position, ready to attack the second group, when a loud sound, remarkably like a neigh, echoed in the empty street, freezing all parties in shock. A black bike, no, THE black bike rode in, stopping with screeching tires. The Black Rider glanced at the assembled Dollars, took out a PDA and typed on it for a brief moment.

 

‘I’ll take the back,’ the PDA said in a mechanical, female voice.

 

‘What the-’ Kuroh trailed off when the Black Biker produced a shadowy scythe. All the masked Jungle players took a few steps back.

 

‘Let’s go,’ Mai urged. All the effort would be for nothing if the Green King managed to steal the Dresden Slate. Kuroh nodded. He turned around, looked at the buildings and told her to hold on tight. And as soon as she did, not even thinking to disobey the voice that was so incredibly similar to a certain demonic butler, he stretched his hand ahead.

 

A split of a second later, they were flying up and she couldn’t quite stifle a shocked shout, but before she could become afraid or worried, they have already landed, on the other side of the Dollars and Jungle players. Some of the latter turned towards them, but they only took few steps before a translucent hand delivered and smashed a bottle against the ground, releasing a fiery blaze.

 

Mai winced as the heat hit her. Kuroh looked completely torn between approval of quick action and a shocked kind of horror as somebody ran out of the flames, burning and screaming. Mai herself felt a chill run down her spine at the sight, but it was neither time nor place to go half-heartedly. Kuroh seemed to reach the same conclusion.

 

‘We’ll be more difficult to spot if we approach normally from now on. Can you run?’ he asked.

 

They ran. As much as she could, without risking to trip over something and fall, Mai tried to see anything she could from the Mihashira Tower. It was still standing, which was probably a good sign. Once, she was sure she saw a fiery blaze on one of the middle floors: were Gojo and Mishakuji still only that low? What if downstairs, the Green King waited for them still?

 

She could see the van parked on the side of the street, up ahead, in front of the Tower. Gods, what if there was still the Green King down there? Her own mind replied to her: you will try to convince him to not attack.

 

Simple.

 

She wished.

 

Eventually, the last of the trees obscuring her vision of the lower parts of Tower were behind them and a devastated entrance greeted their eyes. All the glass was gone, the door frames bend outwards and there was- Fog?

 

There was a person in the fog, she thought. But it made no sense. It-

 

A gunshot shattered her thoughts. Kuroh gasped. He stretched his arm forward and a translucent hand shot ahead. It spread and grabbed something and disappeared. The bullet, Mai understood. She glanced towards the Tower, but the person from the fog was gone. Without even looking at each other, they sped up and Mai arrived at the van somewhat breathless, but she forced herself to look inside.

 

‘Fushimi?’ she asked. He was staring ahead with unseeing eyes and he was blank. There was not a single feeling she was getting from him and it made her shiver. ‘Oi, Fushimi,’ she repeated, climbing into the van clumsily. She slapped his cheek lightly and when that didn’t work, hugged him, despite the awkward angle.

 

‘Fushimi, come on, I need your help,’ she breathed, still panting from the run.

 

‘He didn’t get shot, did he?’ Kuroh asked from behind her.

 

‘No, he’s just in shock, I think,’ she replied. She pulled back and grabbed his face in her hands, feeling a trickle of “what has just happened” curse through Fushimi’s head. ‘That's right,’ she muttered. ‘Don’t make me kiss you, officer, or there will be hell to pay.’

 

‘What?’ both Kuroh and Fushimi said at the same time. Mai laughed out shortly and put some distance between herself and Fushimi. Well, that was what she has tried to do, but she ended up taking the third step backwards into emptiness and falling with a shout. Straight into Kuroh’s arms.

 

‘I see you picked up your dog,’ Fushimi drawled mockingly, but Mai didn’t take it badly. She could clearly see he was trying to make up for his embarrassment after realizing she and Kuroh must have found him in a state of complete shock. Of course, Kuroh didn’t know that and as soon as he steadied Mai on the ground, he was glaring at Fushimi, hand going to the hilt of his katana. A dagger appeared in Fushimi’s hand as though by magic.

 

‘Ok, time out,’ Mai shouted, throwing both hands in the air. ‘We’re on the same side here, right, Fushimi?’ she asked, turning to look at him. The “turncoat” made a displeased sound and confirmed her guess, so she turned her head to Kuroh. He relaxed his stance, but didn’t look away from the ex-Sceptre officer. However, when he spoke the words he said shocked both Mai and Fushimi.

 

‘It appears that I owe you for aiding my escape,’ he said stiffly, barely managing to hide the feeling of being insulted that a turncoat has had to help him from his voice. His bow, although deep and respectful, was even stiffer. ‘You have my gratitude,' he added and straightened. Fushimi shook his head slightly.

 

‘We’re even now that you saved my life. Or, since they were obviously not aiming to kill you at all, perhaps even I owe you,’ he admitted. He was just as unhappy about this situation as Kuroh, even if he was truly grateful to be alive. Mai had to smile at their stubbornness.

 

‘If you think you owe me anything, make it even by calling Yukari Mishakuji down here,’ Kuroh replied almost without a moment of hesitation. Fushimi hid his surprise well and turned to the computer. As he fiddled with it, Mai became aware of a gaze burning into her back.

 

She turned around to see Adolf K Weismann watching her, a little bit too far away for her to read his face. All the same, the whirlwind of anger, jealousy and regret that swirled around him was clear enough. There was also a large dose of suspicion and Mai hoped he wouldn’t come to the conclusion that they were enemies. Next to him, Neko the Strain, stood, happy, but uncertain, probably because “her Shiro” hasn't made a move towards the miraculously returned Kuroh Yatogami. The latter glanced at her and followed her gaze, stifling the desire to recoil with merely a flinch.

 

Weismann was the first one to look away, the whirlwind of his emotions calming into resignation. He turned to Neko, told her something that turned her uncertainty into anguish and left without looking back towards the van. Neko watched him go for a while, before turning back to Kuroh, making a couple of steps towards him, hope shimmering through her anguish and uncertainty. Unfortunately, just then Fushimi announced he has managed to hook the Sceptre 4’s communication channel to the speaker system wired throughout the Tower and Kuroh immediately looked back towards him. Neko stopped, sad, and Mai felt bad for her.

 

Fushimi gave a headset to Kuroh, who accepted it without hesitation, his determination now probably palpable to anybody, regardless of their human reading skills.

 

‘Yukari Mishakuji,’ Kuroh spoke into the microphone, not bothering to actually put the headset on his head. ‘Come down, in front of the Tower. If you dare.’

 

Short and to the point, Mai could almost hear Fushimi think, even as he rolled his eyes, accepting the headset back from Kuroh and switching it off to not project any further conversation throughout the entire Tower.

 

‘Good luck,’ Mai said with a smile. Kuroh bowed to her and walked away from the van. With a corner of her eye, Mai saw Neko watch him. Herself, she turned back to Fushimi, smile still firmly in place as she called up her sanctum. The weight on her shoulders told her that the giant sword has appeared above her, informing all who understood that the Colourless King was there.

 

‘I’ll need you to disconnect this headset from the speakers of the Tower and let me talk with all the Red and Blue clansmen in the Tower,’ she said. Fushimi was obeying her request, without the slightest slither of hesitation or doubt, almost before she has finished speaking. It was the first time she has truly used the full extent of her power on anybody and it felt exhilarating.

 

In that moment, Yukari Mishakuji burst forth out of the Tower, smashing a window in the process, and landed on the ground, in front of Kuroh Yatogami. Glancing in their direction briefly, Mai noticed a group of Jungle players approaching and it made her immediately look back to where her friends were. But they were too far to seem more than flames and smoke.

 

She took the headset when Fushimi offered it to her and put it on her head. For a moment she listened to lieutenant Awashima reporting that Yukari Mishakuji has just turned around and left even before the message from Yatogami, and can we really confirm it’s him, was through. She cleared her throat.

 

‘Hi,’ she said, loud and clear and efficiently shutting everybody up for a split of a second. Then, before anybody had the time to ask who she was, she continued. ‘This is the Colourless King speaking. It appears that large groups of Jungle players are approaching the Mihashira Tower, with the intent of attacking. I would ask all Blue and Red clansmen inside the Tower and able to fight, to come out and give my little clan a helping hand.’

 

She repeated the message. She has barely finished speaking when Neko bounced up to her, pulling her headset off, announcing that she would help as well. Mai accented her help with a warm smile she knew Neko really needed right then.

 

‘Understood,’ lieutenant Awashima spoke in the headset. ‘We have suffered some injuries, but all those who can are on the way down now,’ she assured Mai. And Mai had a feeling she would have a long and unpleasant chat with the Blue King about “borrowing” clansmen. But that would be for afterwards.


	17. Chapter 17

**Chapter 17**

‘So, care to tell me why you aren’t up on that Tower, telling Hisui and Iwafune that they don’t really want to attack?’ Fushimi asked. Mai looked at him, still smiling. A smile, she has been told and has verified, made people happier. It didn’t seem to fully work on Fushimi, because his expression only darkened, but she was prepared to cut him some slack: after all, he has just realized he acted upon her wishes without hesitation and was utterly convinced that it was the right thing to do. Fushimi wasn't used to being utterly convinced of anything, she could tell.

 

‘Is your ability to command people as you wish?’ he asked when she didn’t reply to his first question immediately. Mai laughed shortly, wistfully.

 

‘I wish it was so easy,’ she said, even though she didn’t really want this kind of absolute power, maybe. It would be so easy to abuse: just get anything she wished for from anybody who was at hand at the moment her caprice manifested itself. ‘Look at you, for example. You’re already angry I have persuaded you to do something and it wasn’t even something that goes against your beliefs.’

 

‘I like to take my decisions on my own,’ he replied stiffly, not betraying the fear he felt at the idea that somebody could order him to do something so easily. ‘Now, answer my question: why are you not stopping the Green and Grey Kings from stealing the Slate? Depending on how you answer-’ he didn’t finish. Instead, a dagger reappeared in his hand. It was clear enough what he intended and the blatant threat from a Blue clansman made Mai smirk mockingly.

 

‘You will kill the Colourless King?’ she asked, not hiding her amusement at the idea. Well, he could kill her easily, he probably knew it. Unless she told him not to. He probably knew that as well by now, but Mai had another argument for him, one that would make his decision his own and therefore much more useful for her. ‘If you do kill me, Kuroh Yatogami will most probably kill you. Or do you think you can stand up to the Black Dog?’ she asked.

 

Fushimi faltered. He knew he couldn’t. He has already tried and failed.

 

‘In any case, Nagare Hisui is probably far too determined for me to say “stop this” and make him listen,’ she continued after a pause during which she let Fushimi consider the outcome of his fight with Kuroh. ‘If he has chosen to meet with me to convince me to his plan, I could do something, maybe even talk him out of it, make him believe he doesn’t want to cause chaos on global scale. But then, I suppose we both know exactly why he hasn’t tried to meet with me, don’t we?’

 

The Colourless King had the power to influence the other kings, shift the power balance to a side he chose to ally with. She let Fushimi make his own assumptions as to the extent of her power. He was probably going to overestimate it and that worked fine for Mai: it’s not like she was lying by not saying what she thought she could and couldn’t do.

 

‘Not to mention that, by the time I ran up all those stairs, if I could even manage that, it would be all over,’ she added matter-of-factly. Running down the street was one thing, but up the she-didn’t-even-want-to-know-how-many stairs? Now that was a completely different question. She was sure Fushimi understood. He could probably sympathise, if he wasn’t so upset at her ability that is. ‘So while the other Kings are busy dealing with the big bosses, I’ll try and make sure the small fries don’t swarm us,’ she informed him.

 

‘Who put you in charge?’ he grumbled. She smirked.

 

‘Do you see another King around here?’ she asked back. ‘Now, I can order you around or you can-’ she trailed off abruptly, when Fushimi’s attention and mood shifted in a split of a second. Suddenly, he was tense and distressed, but before she could ask what was wrong, Fushimi jumped in her direction, one arm raised.

 

Sunrays gleamed off the edge of his dagger.

 

Mai shouted in shock.

 

She only understood what happened after Fushimi has grabbed her and twisted away from where she was standing. It took her a moment longer to realize that he has thrown the dagger at the same time but obviously not at her and a split of a second on top of that to register the pained screaming somewhere that she has had her back to. By then, Fushimi has already let go of her and was looking around attentively, because glancing down at her with distaste.

 

‘You’re really hopeless, aren’t you?’ he asked, letting her go. Mai shrugged her shoulders, trying to not betray how her heart was racing. She has now glimpsed the masked attacker, gripping his bleeding arm in panic. She could judge well enough that he hasn’t been all that far from her before Fushimi has neutralized him. She could also see that he dearly regretted taking the mission and was not going to attack anymore: just another of those kids who had no idea what the game was and played it.

 

‘You got me here, officer. I’m a nerd you know: the only survival skill I have ever needed so far was finding free Wi-Fi downtown,’ she said with her best, careless tone. Her voice was almost steady, she noted with pride. Because, hey!, she was also one of those kids who weren’t quite certain what the game was. Only she didn’t have the choice other than to play it. For now.

 

‘That’s not-’ Fushimi started before realizing that she was joking. His expression darkened with no reflection from his feelings. He was a man who enjoyed bickering and figuring out witty replies it seemed. ‘Tsk, aren’t you a gang member originally?’ he asked.

 

‘Ah, Dollars are a peculiar organization, officer. My criminal record is spotless clean, as you might know, since otherwise I wouldn’t have been allowed to study the Dresden Slate in the first place,’ she pointed out. Fushimi glanced at her and muttered something that might have been “that doesn’t prove anything yet”. Louder, he asked where her clansmen were and Mai looked down the street, where she has left them.

 

Right on time to see a few, masked people running towards her, the demonic quartet, Shizuo and Simon hot on their feels. She thought she could hear Erika cackling with glee, but it might have been her imagination.

 

‘Here?’ she said needlessly.

 

‘Fushimi, behind you,’ somebody shouted. Before Mai had the chance to fully understand the words, Fushimi has grabbed her again and pulled her like a rag doll, to the left.

 

More of the Jungle players have arrived.

 

**})i({**

With the Black Rider at their backs and the wrecking team in the form of Shizuo and Simon at their side, taking on a dozen of Jungle players wasn’t even a challenge. Walker, using his extendable hand, gleefully delivered a few Molotovs to discourage those who wanted to escape from the Black Rider. Shizuo and Simon grabbed an enemy each and threw them behind, straight into Walker’s flames. And even with reinforcements of Jungle arriving, Kadota has barely had enough for a warm up before he was running towards the Mihashira Tower, chasing the escaping enemy.

 

And Erika has just managed to field-test her ability. She was entirely too proud of herself for Kadota’s liking. However, there were more important matters than telling her to Stop Laughing.

 

They arrived at the feet of the Mihashira Tower to see the place swarming with masked attackers, many of them armed. And sure, there were some blue-clad people Mai has told them were on their side, and some unmasked delinquents that Kadota guessed were HOMRA, but there was also Mai, accompanied only by one man, in the middle of all this.

 

Kadota cursed.

 

‘Shrimp’s fighting? Wasn’t that other guy she had with him supposed to be a bodyguard?’ Shizuo asked with surprise. Kadota winced: they had told that to Shizuo and Simon in the rush of the moment. He was about to tell Shizuo that the supposed “bodyguard” had some task that apparently only he could fulfil, but right then the blond recoiled violently at something he has seen. Worried, Kadota decided to forgo explanations and get to his “King” on time.

 

He heard a female voice commanding men to get ready for battle, her voice almost drowned in the fierce shout of “no blood, no bone, no ash”. They were supposedly their allies, although they have never met yet, and Kadota allowed himself a brief prayer that the police and HOMRA would realize Dollars were on their side.

 

He blinked as an enormous, white and yellow waving cat popped into existence.

 

‘What the hell? Some of the masked guys just turned on their friends. While having Mai and that weak-looking guy right in front of them nonetheless. What kind of gang are they?’ Shizuo shouted. It seemed Kadota didn’t need to worry immediately then, but still:

 

‘It’s a long story. Let’s try to get to Mai and take our fight from there,’ he said, making sure his voice was loud enough for the others to hear. He hasn’t quite mastered ordering Shizuo around, so he explained: ‘In any case, with those numbers of Jungle players, we will soon be surrounded, so we can just as well be surrounded with Mai in the middle of us.’

 

‘Alright! Let’s make a corridor of love,’ Erika exclaimed, striking a pose with one hand extended roughly towards where Mai was. Kadota would have laughed at how Togusa and Walker took a step away, but he has done the same. Some of the Jungle, presumably who heard the exclamation, paused. Then, much to the surprise of their Jungle comrades, as well as Shizuo and Simon, they looked at each other, deactivated their masks... And started making out. Fiercely.

 

Some of the masked enemies looked at Erika and Kadota could imagine their panic. He sympathised.

 

‘Later, I want to know what’s going on,’ Shizuo proclaimed and grabbed a Jungle member that charged at them, throwing the man effortlessly over his head and into some enemies gathering in their backs. Kadota pushed a few clumsily with the spatial hand and hit another with the good, old baseball bat. Togusa scattered those who were kissing with his sharp, translucent whirlwind, making a proper passage for them.

 

‘Time to test my new flame-thrower,’ Walker chirped. ‘Who wants to be my test subject?’ he asked gleefully. The whoosh of air and screams that followed told Kadota he hasn’t waited for answer. Over his shoulder, he asked Walker to secure their backs and they moved forward slowly.

 

It was insulting that Erika inspired the greatest fear in their enemies.

 

**})i({**

Kuroh barely had the time to get far enough from the van to not worry about involving his King and Fushimi in the fight, when Yukari landed in front of him with undeniable grace. His senior was smiling, despite having in front of him a proof that somebody has betrayed the Green clan or at least managed to break in. Because surely he didn’t think Kuroh would have gotten out on his own: there was still that patronising superiority in his expression. And Kuroh was determined to ignore it and show Yukari that he was an opponent worthy of respect.

 

‘Colourful autumn, before leaves fall silently: maple flares true red,’ were his words of greeting and Kuroh felt his anger fuel the determination to win against his senior this time.

 

‘How dare you, who have betrayed Master Ichigen, speak his words?’ he asked, grabbing the hilt of Kotowari and drawing it without hesitation.

 

‘I complimented you, my cute, little Kuroh,’ Yukari protested. He paused to slide Ayamachi out of its sheath, his movement deliberately slow. ‘After all, not only the maple tree is the most beautiful just before it withers, but it has reached its full potential.’

 

‘A maple does not wither with the coming of winter,’ Kuroh pointed out, ignoring the amused look on Yukari’s face. Both hands on Kotowari’s hilt, he steeled himself for the fight and proclaimed: ‘Today, I will correct your errors, Yukari Mishakuji.’

 

Yukari laughed out briefly and for once Kuroh couldn’t hear any mocking in it, just pure happiness. If anything was ever pure about Yukari Mishakuji. Then, he looked at Kuroh with a smile, eyes gleaming.

 

‘Come and try,’ he said, sounding absolutely thrilled.

 

Kuroh lunged, unsurprised when his blade was smoothly deflected by Yukari. Faster than ever, he continued the motion, turning on his heel, bringing Kotowari to cut Yukari from the other side. Yukari parried the second attack flawlessly as well, the edges of the two katana grinding against each other, sparks flying. He was already starting to smile, but Kuroh hasn’t finished quite yet and his mission was to wipe the patronising smile off the smug face.

 

He thrust his left hand forward quickly, the heel of his hand breaking Yukari’s nose. And in the brief moment Yukari was fighting to keep his balance, Kuroh jumped back, putting a katana’s distance between them.

 

‘So you’ve decided to forego the rules of a clean swordfight? What happened to that stubborn adherence to fair play you used to display, little brother?’ his opponent laughed, wiping the blood off his face. He didn’t even sound annoyed. Against his will, Kuroh felt his teeth gritting as memories of “trainings” flashed in front of his eyes: memories of when Yukari “accidentally” threw him out of the perimeter when Kuroh started getting the upper hand.

 

‘I suppose you could say I learnt from the best,’ he spoke only when he was sure his voice wouldn’t sound like a growl. Something unpleasant blazed in Yukari’s eyes for a moment, before the smug smile stretched his lips once again.

 

‘You got me once, my cute, little Kuroh, don’t expect it to happen the second time,’ he promised. This time, he attacked, moving before he even finished speaking. He swung his katana in a wide arc, so fast it barely flashed in the air, and Kuroh had to rush to bring Kotowari up, lest he be slashed in half.

 

The tiny twitch was his only warning, before Yukari, Ayamachi still pushing against Kotowari, kicked out. Kuroh didn’t quite manage to dodge, but his movement to the side took some edge off the kick that still sent him stumbling a few steps backwards. And without any pause, Yukari was running at him, forcing Kuroh to twist away clumsily.

 

He got his footing back mid-twist and profited from their positions to drive the hilt of Kotowari into Yukari’s spine. Not as hard as he could, since he prioritised getting away. Just enough to tell Yukari that he has seen and used the opportunity. Fluently, he finished his dodge and brought Kotowari back in a powerful attack.

 

The edges of two katana screeched against each other, before both Yukari and Kuroh pushed forward and jumped away. Just enough to have space for a running leap, to strike mid-air and, after the katana met with a loud clang, fall on the other side.

 

Hearing the air swish as Yukari swung his blade again, Kuroh ducked low, kicking his leg out to trip his opponent. Yukari jumped over him and he had to block a punishingly heavy blow from above in a rather unfortunate position. Desperate, he willed Yukari to become lighter for a moment and the pressure on Kotowari lessened, while his opponent gasped in shock.

 

Quickly, Kuroh pushed Yukari away, amazed at how the latter seemed to bounce, like astronauts in low gravity. He removed the influence and Yukari didn’t quite manage to land gracefully. He covered up for the clumsy landing quickly though and swirled his katana in his right hand before gently touching the tips of his left hand’s fingers to the base of the blade.

 

Green sparks raced along the blade like tiny lightning bolts. Kuroh felt an unpleasant shiver run up his spine and Yukari smirked.

 

‘So you do know how to use your Silver Aura, my cute, little Kuroh,’ he purred. ‘Let me show you what I can do with the Green Aura now.’

 

He pounced. Kuroh parried a rapid succession of attacks flawlessly. However, as they both twisted away after the last one, he felt the flat of the Ayamachi tap his back. Immediately, pain spread from the point of contact, very much alike what the collar used to do, but infinitely stronger. He stumbled and must have blacked out for a brief moment, because the next thing he knew he was on the floor and Yukari was slicing through a giant, glittering waving cat.

 

Fear gripped him by the throat.

 

‘This is a one-on-one duel, Miyabi Ameno,’ Yukari proclaimed coldly and at the same time, Kuroh shouted at Neko to stay out of it. Yukari turned to him, eyes narrowing as he jumped forward and slashed.

 

Kuroh barely managed to put up a protection of his Colourless Aura, but the blow wasn’t for him. It hit a Green clansman who has apparently tried approaching him, a long knife in his hand. A knife was no match for a katana and the man was no match for Yukari: before Kuroh even had time to look that direction, the masked Jungle player was crumbling to the ground, sliced cleanly in two.

 

‘From now on, anybody who interferes, friend or foe, will be killed,’ Yukari growled furiously, before finally looking back at Kuroh, a smirk on his face. His voice was calm and patronising again as he spoke: ‘Now, my cute, little Kuroh, wasn’t that nostalgic? Of course it was far stronger than that toy collar of yours. Did you enjoy-’

 

Gritting his teeth, Kuroh scrambled to his feet and attacked, not waiting for Yukari to continue his mocking. He charged at full speed, swinging Kotowari with all the power of his anger. But Yukari deflected the predictable attack easily. He did shut up though.

 

Barely turning to face his enemy again, Kuroh had to parry a fast, horizontal blow. He pushed the blade away and attacked, trusting himself to evade it when Ayamachi came whistling back. He came out of his duck with Kotowari swinging upwards and Yukari barely caught the blow with and awkward move of his katana.

 

They jumped away again. Yukari opened his mouth, but Kuroh was done listening: he lunged straight away. As Yukari blocked the feint, Kuroh executed the real attack: a knifehand strike into Yukari’s ribs. The pained grunt Yukari couldn’t stifle sounded quite satisfying. However, rather than letting himself get carried away, Kuroh quickly withdrew his blade and used Yukari’s small stumble to kick the legs from under him.

 

Even while falling, Yukari swung Ayamachi and the blade slashed Kuroh’s unprotected thigh. As pain shot up his spine, Kuroh hesitated a split of a second too long and the blow meant to slice the fallen enemy in half barely slashed Yukari’s back as the senior student was rolling away.

 

With a wounded leg, Kuroh had no choice but to wait until Yukari has picked himself up and attacked. He knew that, once he put too much weight on the injured leg, he would only be able to execute one, maximum two attacks, so he needed to choose them well. At the same time, the huge dose of adrenaline pumping through his veins, all but silenced the vicious pain.

 

‘I have to admit, little brother, that you are better than I expected,’ Yukari said. He didn’t seem in a hurry to attack, probably just as aware as Kuroh that the latter’s time was now limited. He laughed out. ‘Is it because you’re back in the Colourless clan, little brother? Yes, yes, I did notice that pathetic emblem on your coat and I think it suits you to be the vassal of the weakest king. After all, better though as you might be, you still are weak, my cute, little Kuroh.’

 

He wasn’t going to let Yukari Mishakuji provoke him and forced himself to keep his mouth firmly shut. Figuratively speaking. Taking the offered break to calm his breathing, he watched as Yukari took a few steps to each side, in a leisurely pace. Somebody else might have missed it, thinking the Green clansman’s moves were as graceful as ever, but Kuroh knew Yukari too well by now. The strike to the ribs and the slash across the back have taken their toll on him, even if he was still in a better shape than Kuroh.

 

Which only meant that Kuroh would have to utilize all possible advantages when he attacked.

 

‘What happened? Aren’t you going to say anything? Rage at me that you are not weak? Promise that you will- What was it? Ah, “correct my errors”: wasn’t that what you said? Are you not going to repeat it anymore?’ Yukari mocked. He stopped in front of Kuroh and twirled his sword in his hand.

 

Kuroh narrowed his eyes when he caught a pained wince as Yukari inevitably had to move his arm while the Ayamachi was in motion. The tiniest delay accompanied it and thus the circle designed by the tip of the blade was not quite as perfect as usual. Kuroh memorized it and planned for it.

 

‘Wind’s whisper’s worth more, rustling in the summer leaves, than words unproven,’ he said calmly. Thanks to Yukari’s gloating, he now had his breath back and his heart has calmed to a reasonable level.

 

‘Indeed, my little brother,’ Yukari agreed, although he deliberately misunderstood what Kuroh wanted to say: ‘Your threats are no more danger to me than a breeze.’

 

Let him think that.

 

Eyes never leaving Yukari, Kuroh put all weight on his uninjured leg: kicking off it would give him more speed. Fingers wrapping tightly around Kotowari’s hilt, he placed the blade behind, to give himself the largest move possible when he would swing forward. Smirking, Yukari shifted his position accordingly, Ayamachi treacherously lose in his grip. They stood frozen for a couple of heartbeats.

 

Then Kuroh jumped. Ayamachi’s blade trembled as Yukari tightened his grip, ready to parry. He twitched, aborting his move abruptly a few seconds later. Gritting his teeth against the excruciating pain, Kuroh landed on his injured leg too far to strike. And, in a fluent move, he slid his foot by few degrees, changing the axis of his attack and pulling Kotowari closer, the tip of the blade pointing at the enemy.

 

Yukari quickly moved his hand to parry the new blow. His face twisted in a pained grimace and his blade faltered, giving Kuroh just enough time to stab him in the stomach with a forward thrust.

 

He coughed out blood.

 

‘How fitting for us to die together,’ he muttered. Too late, Kuroh realized that Yukari was still armed: he could already feel Ayamachi biting into his side.

 

Faster than a thought, he stumbled away gracelessly, leaving Kotowari in Yukari’s abdomen. As his injured leg gave in under him, he saw Yukari crumble to his knees. As he too fell, he saw Yukari’s bloodied smile.


	18. Chapter 18

**Chapter 18**

Fushimi’s desperate warning reached Reisi Munakata about the same time as Nagare Hisui arrived in the Slate Chamber like a green, deadly lightning. It was most unfortunate, because the realization that he has sent one of his best and most faithful men to death hit him hard. He faltered, knees almost giving in under him and, if it wasn’t for Anna Kushina’s swift reaction, the Green King would have done away with him then and there, in one attack.

 

The same stab of guilt and pain as when Takeru Kusuhara has taken the bullet for him shot through him. He thought he has forgotten, but the memory of blood on the ground, the slow realization of what Kusuhara has done, was as fresh as though it happened the day before. Only it was not Kusuhara’s face anymore. The body on the ground, the shot wound taken for the sake of the captain of Sceptre 4 bleeding profusely, was Saruhiko Fushimi. Hated by the whole Blue clan for the betrayal he has never committed. Paying with his life for following orders.

 

In a way it was even worse than Kusuhara, who has taken a split of a second decision himself. Because when he suggested to Fushimi that inserting a spy into the Green clan might be the only solution, he has known what the consequences could be. And Fushimi has known as well, yet he has barely hesitated before assuring Munakata that he would do what was necessary. But even though they both knew Fushimi might get exposed as a spy and killed, Munakata hoped it would not come to that. He hoped that, if Fushimi got exposed, it would be in the last moment, when somebody could go and rescue him.

 

And yet-

 

A pained scream snapped Munakata out of the choking thoughts. Quickly, he realized that it was the Red King who has screamed, thrown against a wall by the Green King. The Green King who has burned so much energy getting up here, who wasn’t saving it at all.

 

If Munakata hasn’t had Fushimi’s warning, he would surely grow overconfident in this situation where victory was merely a question of time. But he had the warning, although it came with a great price, and he was determined to not waste it. They needed to quickly devise a new plan for defeating not one but two Kings.

 

Before that, however- He jumped between the stunned Red King and the attacking Green King, using his sanctum and blade alike to push Nagare Hisui away.

 

‘So you will fight,’ the Green King mocked. ‘And here I was thinking that seeing me you have realized how powerful I was and how you couldn’t do anything to stop me.’

 

‘I’ll make you eat those words, Hisui,’ Munakata growled. I’ll make you pay, he thought and attacked. Like a lightning, the Green King evaded every blow of the katana, but let himself be pushed away from Anna and the Slate. He didn’t seem bothered whatever outcome of the fight, glad to prolong it. Munakata, however, needed to make away with him before the Grey King arrived: fighting that lightning in the fog would be impossible.

 

Thankfully, Nagare was getting tired. Munakata nicked him already twice and- Just as he was about to deliver a blow Nagare surely wouldn’t evade, a familiar voice boomed through the speakers: the Black Dog was daring Yukari Mishakuji to come down, in front of the Tower, to fight.

 

The Green King didn’t look happy, but Munakata didn’t waste time to wonder whether it was simply because his hostage, or whatever the Black Dog has been all that time, was obviously free, or for another reason. Vaguely registering Awashima reporting that Mishakuji heeded the challenge without the slightest hesitation, Munakata attacked. Angry, Hisui parried and countered, but just as his electricity was about to zap through Munakata, a cage of fire engulfed the Green King.

 

Nagare Hisui crumbled to the ground, holding a hand over his heart.

 

In the earpiece, Munakata heard the Colourless King calling for the Blue and Red clansmen to come and deal with the Jungle players. Intrinsically, he completely agreed with her and even applauded her, inexperienced as she was, for getting the idea so quickly. However, when Awashima immediately reported to her, rather than to Munakata, that she was going in, the Blue King decided that he needed to have a chat with Mai Ueno.

 

Later. Because right then fog forming announced the arrival of the Grey King.

 

‘Captain Munakata, I would like to report that your pitiful spy hasn’t achieved anything before dying,’ a voice Munakata didn’t recognize announced. It was without a doubt the Grey King, for the voice was accompanied by a strong presence alike that of Anna, Hisui or Munakata himself.

 

‘Perhaps,’ Munakata allowed, forcing his tone to be calm and collected. ‘Perhaps his warning of your presence will turn the tide of this battle. Perhaps arranging for the Black Dog to occupy Yukari Mishakuji will,’ he added. If he was destabilized by the fact that Fushimi has been killed, they might just as well be, knowing their plans haven’t gone quite as they have wanted. It worked better than he expected.

 

‘The Black D-’ the newcomer trailed off and cursed like a sailor.

 

‘There is nothing to worry about. Yukari will take care of him and proceed with the plan,’ Nagare Hisui replied, although the irritation in his voice belied the words. And the words betrayed that Mishakuji did, indeed, still have a task to fulfil. The Grey King cursed some more in answer. It seemed that neither of them questioned whether Mishakuji would answer to Kuroh Yatogami’s challenge or who would be the winner.

 

Never before in his life, Munakata wanted somebody to win as badly as now. Mishakuji’s death would be no consolation for Fushimi’s fate, but the vicious part of him, the one he rarely acknowledged, wanted to see anguish on the faces of the Grey and Green Kings. He wanted them to feel his pain. Pain that, even now, threatened to overwhelm him if he didn’t carefully push it away, focusing completely on the enemy in front of him.

 

A gunshot shattered the silence.

 

‘Watch out,’ Yashiro Isana muttered into his ear. Munakata felt himself become weightless and float. ‘Let’s end this quick,’ he added. Funny, Munakata thought, he didn’t sound at all happy that his clansman was back. How could he not be was incomprehensible to Munakata, who wished for nothing more than to get out from the Tower and find out his clansmen were all safe and sound.

 

Even if he knew they wouldn’t be.

 

Yes, Munakata thought, let’s. He needed to be elsewhere now.

 

**})i({**

Somehow, Saruhiko Fushimi found himself unwillingly filling in Kuroh Yatogami’s role as the bodyguard of the Colourless King. He tried to tell himself that it was only because the enemy has surrounded them too fast for him to have joined his fellow clansmen as they filed out of the Mihashira Tower under Awashima’s command. Over the sounds of the chaotic battle that ensued, he heard her orders, directing the Sceptre 4’s officers to maintain formations, to attack here or there. He heard also the motto of HOMRA, shouted with enthusiasm and determination, as the Red clansmen also spilled out through the devastated entrance hall, joining the medley.

 

It was complete chaos. Backs against the side of the Jungle’s van, Fushimi and Ueno tried to do their best to not be overwhelmed. Needless to say that, between his lack of sword and her lack of, well, any sort of fighting skills, they weren’t doing so well. If it wasn’t for the Colourless King’s frightening ability, they would have probably long since succumbed to the enemy.

 

‘You want to attack the masked men,’ Mai Ueno managed to find the time to say. Three of the Jungle players paused in their moves. Fushimi took the chance to grab a baseball bat from one of them. He tried to get a weapon every time Ueno pulled her trick on the enemies, but usually, they were not very efficient weapons.

 

‘We want to attack the masked men,’ the Jungle players repeated and turned on their own comrades. It didn’t work every time, something about the strength of convictions or similar, from what Ueno has explained in a rush. Not that Fushimi cared, for as long as he could convince himself that he was protecting her not because that was the right thing to do but because he didn’t have a choice.

 

More than anything he didn’t want to be influenced by her words again.

 

‘What about the sanctum?’ he asked, smashing the baseball bat against a mask.

 

‘I don’t know how it will react to you, since you’re not-’ she paused and Fushimi became aware that two of the Jungle players on his right have just deactivated their masks and started making out. ‘Uh oh,’ said the Colourless King and pulled at the collar of Fushimi’s jacket. ‘Let’s not get caught in-’

 

She didn’t finish, because she has moved far too close to another enemy, who was already aiming a short knife at her. Unwillingly, but without hesitation, Fushimi moved his back away from the van to strike the man who- Disappeared.

 

It took a moment for Fushimi to realize that the attacker has been physically lifted up and thrown good five meters away from the van. And that in his place stood a tall, blond man wearing a black waistcoat over a white shirt, both of which were somewhat dishevelled

 

‘Shizuo! Guys!’ the Colourless King exclaimed with relief. And suddenly Fushimi found himself surrounded by a group of people, their backs to him and Ueno, fighting in his and Ueno’s stead.

 

‘Is this your clan?’ he asked, feeling like he was stating the obvious. The newcomers didn’t look like HOMRA and were certainly not a part of Sceptre 4. Mai Ueno smiled as she replied that “more or less” the ones now protecting them were the Colourless clan and Fushimi decided that he didn’t have the time to dig into the details. Instead, he took a moment to get back his breath and calm his racing heart.

 

He took a moment to think. The Green and Grey Kings were up there, fighting against the Red, Blue and Silver Kings: he could see the five swords hovering over the Mihashira Tower, sparkling with auras of corresponding colour. Yukari Mishakuji was either still occupied by Kuroh Yatogami, or a threat. However, Fushimi was sure that Mishakuji’s win would not go unnoticed by anybody in the vicinity and definitely not by the Colourless King. In fact, he fully expected something along the lines of a severed head falling in front of the woman in the case of Mishakuji’s win and sure as hell Fushimi wouldn’t have missed that, standing right next to her.

 

Which left Sukuna Gojo unaccounted for.

 

The annoying brat hasn’t come out of the Tower with the Blues and Reds, so did that mean he was taken care of? Surely Awashima wouldn’t have left such a threat behind- Wait, she might have since she has acted under the orders of the Colourless King. Have the Reds also heard them? Fushimi tried to see the HOMRA leaders, who might have had headsets as well, to coordinate with Sceptre 4, but it seemed like Kusanagi and Yata were missing.

 

Stayed behind to take care of Gojo? Injured? Dea-

 

Maybe he simply hasn’t noticed them, he thought firmly. A cold shiver went down his spine at the aborted thought just before, but he forced himself to ignore it. And a violent heatwave that hit him just then did an excellent job in erasing all his thoughts.

 

‘What the hell are you doing?’ he yelled at one of the Colourless clansman, who was carelessly blowing flames at the enemies. ‘We’re standing next to a van with almost a full tank of petrol!’ he pointed out. A young woman, who was standing next to the flame-throwing idiot, turned to look at Fushimi briefly and then glanced at the car.

 

‘Ah, the cute Mr Uptight might be right, Walker,’ she said. Fushimi breathed a sigh of relief when the flames disappeared. ‘Let’s switch to Molotovs,’ the woman continued.

 

‘Sure, sure. Anyway, we’ve cleared the immediate perimeter by now,’ the other replied and, seconds later, an extendable, translucent hand delivered three Molotov cocktails in a rapid succession.

 

‘Watch where you’re throwing them,’ Fushimi shouted, because one blazed very close to where the Blues were fighting.

 

‘Tsk, Walker, keep up,’ the woman said, not sounding concerned or upset in the least. ‘Mai said the blue ones are with us, the game is to aim at the others.’

 

‘Guys,’ said another of the Colourless clan, a taller man wearing a black beanie hat. The one word seemed to contain a whole reproach and the next Molotovs landed far from the Blues and HOMRA.

 

‘Do me a favour, officer,’ Ueno grabbed Fushimi’s attention. She wasn’t looking at him, but rather out beyond the protection her clansmen provided. ‘I’ll try to clear this side of the field, before people get injured any more. If I faint, catch me.’

 

She hasn’t made it an order, Fushimi thought, surprised. But then the thought that Ueno trusted him so much as to let him decide whether or not he wanted to help crossed his mind. And he decided that this option was just as annoying as if she had forced him to obey. Who the hell did the woman think she was? He wasn’t obliged to protect her, especially now that she was surrounded by her people. He had no debt towards her. If anything she had, for his help with the Black Dog.

 

And yet, not for a split of a second did he consider letting her fall, just to prove a point.

 

For a moment nothing happened. Mai Ueno pressed the tips of her fingers to her temples and closed her eyes. She even looked like she wasn’t breathing for a while, but when she did release her breath, it came with a shockwave. Too weak to make anybody fall, it still made all the masked Jungle players in front of them pause. They stood there, frozen for a moment, but when one more Molotov exploded, they fled.

 

Amazed at the sudden emptiness around them and momentarily overcome by an inexplicable fear, Fushimi almost forgot to catch the Colourless King when she swayed. As she leaned against him heavily, not quite unconscious but clearly weak, Fushimi looked at the escaping enemies. They seemed to be trampling down those few who didn’t want to escape. To the side, where Blues and Reds were fighting, most of the masked enemies were gone, leaving their wounded and, presumably, dead behind.

 

The flame throwing idiot suggested he was going to support Ueno and Fushimi immediately relinquished his burden, making his way straight to Awashima. With the corner of his eye, he saw Yatogami stab Mishakuji with his katana, but the relief he felt was erased by worry when he realized that Kusanagi and Yata really were missing from among the Reds. He vaguely heard Ueno shout something, his focus shifting to Awashima, who has exclaimed his name.

 

‘Fushimi! You’re alive,’ she sounded amazed. Have they thought he- Ah, the Grey King has shot him, he remembered suddenly. It felt like an eternity ago, but he has almost died. And surely everybody with a headset has heard the shot that ended his desperate call. Awashima looked like he wanted to hug him, but stopped herself on time.

 

‘More importantly, what about Sukuna Gojo?’ he asked, glancing around at all the gathered clansmen. It didn’t escape his attention that some of the HOMRA recoiled at the question, but what really worried him was the grimace on Awashima’s face. Fushimi frowned and demanded to know what has happened.

 

‘Yatagarasu,’ Awashima started with hesitation and paused awkwardly. Fushimi stiffened. He didn’t like her tone. ‘It seems he got furious when you- I mean, we were all sure you died, shot by the Grey King most likely.’

 

‘He lost it when that bastard laughed,’ Kamamoto interrupted Awashima. Fushimi glanced at him, barely seeing the guy, because he could already guess what they were going to say and the sheer knowledge of it was overwhelming. ‘That Green brat found it funny and Yata lost it completely, attacking with no regard to anything and-’

 

Died.

 

Fushimi knew who was a better fighter, between Sukuna Gojo and Misaki Yata. He didn’t hear the rest of what they had to say through the ringing in his ears. He felt his knees give in under him and hands grabbing him. He thought he heard somebody speak, maybe shout, but all that went through his head was that Misaki has thought he had died. Somehow Misaki has also heard that desperate message to the captain and the shot that followed. The shot that should have killed Fushimi but hadn’t.

 

Only nobody up in the Tower knew. And as the Green brat mocked as well he only could, Misaki must have lost his calm. Fushimi could almost see it in front of his eyes. He could see Gojo’s scythe cutting through Misaki.

 

Because of Fushimi’s stupid slip, a mistake he could have avoided if only he spoke quieter or waited a moment, Misaki was dead.

 

Because of him, Misaki was dead. For the first time, Saruhiko Fushimi wished he has died instead.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Yup, that “we want to attack the masked men” was supposed to make you think about Star Wars ;)


	19. Chapter 19

**Chapter 19**

The end was somewhat anticlimactic, although just before the end it didn’t look like it would be. Enraged by the interference of the Silver King, Nagare Hisui released a huge burst of power that forced everybody to duck desperately, to not be fried alive. In the haste, Munakata ended up hitting a wall, briefly stunning himself. When he blinked back his vision, Hisui was still raging.

 

As though in a slow motion, Munakata saw his headset tumbling through the air. It must have fallen at the impact, he thought, trying to catch the device. He failed, which turned out to be lucky: not even a split of a second after Munakata’s fingers closed around air a few centimetres away from the flying device a green lightning shot from the channel control to the headphone.

 

It would have fried his brain, he thought blankly. For a moment, that was the only thought he was capable of and he recognized it as shock: never before he has been so close to dying. Then, like a different sort of lightning shooting through his brain, he remembered that Anna and Weismann also wore headsets. Fear fuelling his actions, he called up all the power he could and focused it on dispersing the fog.

 

Fog, after all, was just a visible cloud of water droplets. Even originating from the Grey King’s power and carrying the protective ability, its basic, physical properties remained unchanged and the Blue King could easily change the fog into tiny ice crystals. For a moment, everything was fragmented in an insanity-inducing chaos of prisms. Then, before Munakata could remove the ice, a fiery blaze sublimated it into nothing. The Blue and Red King’s abilities always cancelled each other out.

 

Having good visibility returned was almost dizzying for a moment and Munakata barely dodged a shot from the enraged Grey King. He got his bearings back quickly and changed his evasion into an attack, sabre gleaming as it cut the clean air. Its edge clang as the Grey King met it with his antique gun.

 

‘Why the hell won’t you play by the script for once, Munakata?’ the man dressed like a priest growled. Munakata felt his lips stretch in a cold smile. He knew it didn’t reach his eyes at all.

 

‘I make my own scripts,’ he replied, keeping his tone light and pleasant. ‘Now maybe you’d like to follow it and die,’ he suggested, the meaning of the words and the real intention to kill the Grey King clashing with the pleasant tone.

 

‘Reisi,’ the Red King shouted behind him. He didn’t question the warning: without hesitation, he jumped to the side and the electric shock meant for him hit the Grey King square on the chest.

 

He didn’t scream. He barely even gasped. When Munakata landed and turned back to the enemy, he saw the Grey King collapse to the ground in complete silence. Even as he fell it felt as though the sound was somewhat muted, though there was no reason for it to be.

 

Without even realizing, Munakata found himself holding his breath, turning his eyes away from the man who couldn’t have survived such an electric shock to the one who had unwillingly struck an ally.

 

Nagare Hisui was completely frozen, hand still outstretched from the attack, eyes opened impossibly wide. He didn’t even seem to be breathing as he watched the Grey King on the marble floor of the Slate chamber. Only the hairline crackles of electricity were jumping from him and back, some escaping and disappearing into thin air. Their uneven buzzing was the only sound in the chamber.

 

Slowly, so impossibly slowly, the hand fell to the Green King’s side. The shocked expression melted like evening’s snow in the morning sun, gradually replaced by incomprehension and Munakata understood then that the Grey King meant much more to Nagare Hisui than any of them could have suspected.

 

Seconds trickled past with agonizing slowness.

 

Nagare Hisui fell to his knees, grabbing his hair and pulling so harshly it was a wonder he hasn’t pulled any out. In the silence, Munakata could now hear his breathing: heavy and irregular. Something about it started a warning bell in the back of his mind and he took a step further away from the grieving man.

 

The heel of Munakata’s shoe clacked against the smooth marble, shattering the silence.

 

He froze, because so did Nagare Hisui. However, when nothing happened for a few more seconds, Munakata glanced to see Anna Kushina and Adolf K Weismann, the latter holding his head with a pained grimace on his face, not too far away. His eyes met with those of the Red King and in them he read a warning.

 

Again, he didn’t question it. Without a split of a second of hesitation, he threw up the strongest protective barrier he could over the three of them. It wasn’t a second too early.

 

With an animalistic wail of denial, Nagare Hisui snapped.

 

Green filled the air, the crackling of electricity so loud that Munakata couldn’t hear anything else until the crack in his protective barrier rang out like a gunshot. He turned his head to where the damage was, seeing that electricity was already zapping through it.

 

A sudden wave of warmth told him that Anna Kushina has activated her own sanctum, throwing a second layer of protection over them. To make it easier for her, Munakata walked up closer, eyes never leaving the man in the middle of the chamber, barely visible through the storm of green lightning bolts.

 

They hit everything: walls, lamps, ceiling. Small explosions marked the buzzling every time they found something they could easily destroy.

 

A third protective layer, like translucent, liquid mercury, wrapped around them.

 

The ceiling cracked ominously and right afterwards, the sliding doors exploded outwards, one after another. Their combined auras should keep them unscathed even if everything came crashing down, but if the constructions fell down around the Tower-

 

As suddenly as it started, everything stopped.

 

It took a few heartbeats for Munakata to realize that the danger was over, at least as long as the Tower’s construction would hold. For a few more seconds, electric discharges zipped across the marble chaotically, before finding outlet in the wooden constructions that were once holding the sliding doors.

 

The Grey King was no more than a burned corpse, beyond recognition.

 

The Green King, collapsed right over the Dresden Slate, looked untouched, except for where his heart should be. The fabric of his clothes was burnt around the grotesque, unnatural hole in his body. Under him, the floor was visibly cracked and, Munakata shuddered seeing it, it appeared that even the Dresden Slate has been damaged.

 

There was no doubt that the two enemies were dead.

 

Slowly, Munakata allowed relief to flood him, in waves, like a coming tide. He hasn’t been forced to kill another King, further damaging his Sword of Damocles. Unwillingly, Nagare Hisui took that task upon himself. And all this mess was over.

 

Instinctively, he put a hand to the channel control, to call Awashima and ask her to report, but his fingers touched his hair. Ah yes, the headset was destroyed. He wondered whether Awashima or anybody was trying to reach him even now and what they made of the lack of answer. Then again, until a few seconds ago they had the Sword of Damocles to show them that he was alive.

 

‘We should find the others,’ Anna Kushina whispered. Her voice trembled and when Munakata turned to her, he saw her looking away from the two bodies. Immediately remembering that she was just a little girl, he walked her out of the chamber, Weismann following them after only a brief hesitation. There was no need to worry about either of the fallen Kings after all, no need to restrain or guard them.

 

‘Are you both alright?’ Munakata asked. Anna quietly replied that she has had a brief premonition and tore the headset off her head right on time to avoid Nagare Hisui’s sneaky attack. She also told them that her beads have been crushed in the final madness, although she had no idea why.

 

Weismann dryly noted that he was still immortal. He sounded almost like he regretted it.

 

All the traps were still engaged, meaning that the lifts were disabled. With no means of communication to tell somebody to disengage the security measures, the easiest for them was to follow the path of destruction created by Nagare Hisui and his clansmen. Weismann levitated them down the staircases, faster than they could have gone down themselves, and through the holes left in the fire doors.

 

That was how they found Misaki Yata and Sukuna Gojo, in the area where the Red clan was supposed to delay the J-ranked clansmen. As soon as she noticed them, Anna Kushina shouted and wriggled in protest and the Silver King let them all to the ground.

 

As the Red King rushed to her clansman in obvious distress, and the Silver King kneeled next to the Green clansman, Munakata looked around. The area was completely devastated: charred with fire and electricity alike, walls missing bits and pieces a bit everywhere around and the ceiling crumbling slightly in one corner.

 

‘He’s still alive,’ the Weismann announced. He exchanged a grim look with Munakata and they both turned to Anna, who was sobbing next to Misaki, holding onto his hand.

 

Munakata winced. Stopping Sukuna Gojo was quite a feat, but he doubted it would comfort her or any of HOMRA. Or Fushimi, he thought and the immediate sting of pain corrected him: it wouldn’t have comforted Fushimi. Except, his third-in-command was dead as well, sent to a suicidal mission he accepted without a word of protest. After all, it was logical that he would go, since the Green King has been interested in him much before, since he had the Jungle account since he was a kid.

 

And the Blue King obeyed logic.

 

It was funny how his heart didn’t seem to agree.

 

As Weismann went to Anna, Munakata snapped the power-restraining handcuffs on Gojo far more viciously than needed. Unprofessional, he scolded himself in his thoughts, even though he couldn’t bring himself to care.

 

‘Anna, he’s still alive,’ he heard Weismann and a bout of ugly jealousy tore through his thoughts. So the Red King would get to keep her clansmen, he thought and immediately stomped down on the emotion, before anything could be voiced. ‘He will not hold for long, we have to get help.’

 

‘As soon as we get down, we can have Awashima send in ambulances,’ Munakata reminded them, failing to keep the bitterness out of his voice. They had medical teams, from the Gold clan’s facility, standing by after all.

 

The Silver King looked at him weirdly, before understanding flashed in the overly kind eyes.

 

‘Captain, Fushimi is alive,’ he said. Munakata stared at him, uncomprehending in the first moment. ‘Well, he was when I have gone up. Kuroh- I mean the Black Dog has arrived on time to stop the bullet. In all honesty I thought that he and the Colourless King have joined the Green clan for a moment, but-’

 

‘We should hurry to get help to Misaki,’ the Red King interrupted Weismann’s revelations. She was right, but Munakata was too stunned by what he was hearing to react before the Silver King had them floating above the ground, far faster than before. Indeed, he barely had the time to reshape the world around the fact that he owed a great favour to the Black Dog when they arrived in the devastated entrance.

 

Chaos ruled outside, but one thing was immediately clear: the Jungle players were not there anymore. If not for the bodies and injured masked people stranded here and there on the ground, Munakata could almost believe they have never been there.

 

Quickly approaching sirens signalled that somebody has already called for medical help.

 

Relieved shouts pierced the chaos when their arrival was noted and, seconds later, the female Strain all but collided with Weismann, crying and shouting at the same time. All Munakata could understand from her was “Kurosuke” and “dying”, but it was enough to grasp the situation. He looked in the direction from where she has likely come and indeed, the Black Dog was on the ground, blood pooling around his midsection, while somebody held his head and shoulders on their lap.

 

The “somebody’s” identity became clear when the dark aura spread around the person and the gravely wounded swordsman. The Blue clansmen, who were checking out the wounded enemies nearby, distanced themselves somewhat. As it spread, the aura licked the other man on the ground just next to the Colourless King and her Black Dog, a man with a familiar katana sticking out from his abdomen. Munakata stiffened, remembering a very important fact.

 

‘Sir, I’m relieved-’ Awashima has arrived in the same second.

 

‘Somebody, restrain Mishakuji, now,’ he ordered sharply. With a gasp, Awashima repeated the order, putting a name to it and Domiyoji rushed to comply. While there, he also took the katana out, depositing it at the edge of the Colourless aura hesitantly.

 

‘Captain,’ Awashima started again and this time Munakata turned to look at her, taking in her injuries and fatigued expression. ‘We couldn’t reach you after your Sword of Damocles dissolved,’ she said. Munakata softened his expression. She must have been really worried to take on that tone, he thought.

 

‘Please send a medical team up to where team three was positioned,’ Anna Kushina shouted, getting the attention of pretty much everybody nearby. Awashima repeated “team three” in a surprised whisper. Somebody from HOMRA moved a step towards Anna and Munakata noticed Fushimi kneeling on the ground, looking absolutely devastated. Ryuho Kamo was holding onto his shoulder, saying something to him urgently.

 

Oh, Munakata thought. He could barely focus through the relief that the Silver King hasn’t been wrong about Fushimi, but even then he could realize what has happened. In a loud, commanding voice, he stopped a medic and ordered him to go get Misaki Yata from the Tower and immediately take him to hospital. Both Kamo and Fushimi looked at him when he spoke the name and for a moment Munakata thought Fushimi might faint.

 

Of course nothing like that happened. As the news filtered through to his third-in-command, the anguished expression melted into his default: displeased at having to deal with living creatures. He firmly pushed Kamo away when the latter tried to help him up and walked up to report. In the meantime, Awashima directed medical teams quickly: one to take care of the Black Dog and a few others to follow her and Kamamoto of HOMRA up the Tower to where Gojo and Mishakuji have been delayed.

 

Munakata felt proud of them both.


	20. Chapter 20

**Chapter 20**

By luck or skill, or most probably a combination of both, Fushimi has managed to not get more than scratches in the chaotic fight with the Jungle players. In the aftermath, his mission was explained to everybody and already the day after he was back in the office as Sceptre 4’s third-in-command. With a self-imposed mission of forgetting and making everybody else forget his major, nervous breakdown, he buried himself in work, helping Munakata to collect testimonies about the fight in the Mihashira Tower and to order them so that the picture of what happened was clear. He even went to Ikebukuro to talk with the Colourless clansmen.

 

In the meantime, he read reports Munakata received from the Gold-clan-controlled medical facility, where the wounded have been taken and were treated. Munakata has asked for updates on all the wounded and thus Fushimi knew that they were all doing well, recovering at a speed expected from clansmen of active Kings. He was one of the very few in Sceptre 4, who hasn’t visited Yujiro Benzai, who has suffered some serious injuries when Yukari Mishakuji has cut his way through HOMRA and attacked Sceptre 4.

 

He wasn’t overly friendly with Benzai, so Fushimi didn’t see a problem in that. If others did, they didn’t say anything, which was perfectly fine with Fushimi. The less they talked with him the less chance any of them would ask whether he was alright. After all, why wouldn’t he be? Thinking that one’s best friend was dead when they weren’t was stupid and merited no further thought or discussion. Why wouldn’t Fushimi be fine?

 

A loud snap brought him back to reality and he realized it was his fault: he broke the pencil he was holding.

 

Closing his eyes to not see the worried glances around him, Fushimi took a deep breath and reminded himself of the work he needed to do. Jungle servers needed to be located and switched off one by one, the data carefully copied to Sceptre 4’s designated servers, detached from the network, erased from the original locations and verified number by number, for any surprises Nagare Hisui might have left. It was an overwhelming task and should be the only thing on his mind currently.

 

Fushimi opened his eyes when he heard the door to Munakata’s office opening. The Colourless King, Mai Ueno, stepped out, followed by the captain himself. Nobody really knew what she was doing, again, in the office. Fushimi expected it had to do with the “project”, of rehabilitating Yukari Mishakuji and Sukuna Gojo for life in a society, Munakata has hinted at a few times already.

 

He scowled at the very thought. During the fight with Jungle, it became obvious that her ability was some sort of ultimate control over people: she could make others do exactly what she wanted, with no way for them to protest. Well, she claimed it wasn’t exactly as easy as that but Fushimi wasn’t going to be fooled. She has made him obey like a faithful dog, without any thought otherwise. Even now, days after the event, when he thought about what she has made him do and despite his anger at what happened he couldn’t think other than that she has been right. She has taken good decisions.

 

‘I believe the time is right, captain,’ the Colourless King said. Fushimi couldn’t care less, yet still his curiosity got the better of him: the right time for what? Were they going to talk with the J-ranked players finally? Why haven’t they finished their conversation in the office?

 

‘Excellent, Miss Ueno,’ Munakata replied politely. He glanced around the office. ‘Fushimi, you’re with us,’ he commanded. Fushimi scowled, but switched off the interface and closed the laptop before getting up from his chair.

 

‘Where are we going?’ he asked, falling in step just behind Munakata and Ueno as they walked out of the office. Briskly, Munakata confirmed his suspicions: it was the time to see whether they could hope to once release Mishakuji and Gojo. Fushimi didn’t offer his opinion on the subject. First of all it didn’t matter and second: he didn’t like what it said about him and between Munakata and Ueno, one of them would figure it out. Especially if the gossip circulating Sceptre 4 was true and Ueno really could decipher emotions. Hell, if she could she was probably doing it even now, he thought with displeasure.

 

They took a car and Fushimi took the wheel without hesitation. He wanted something else to think about than the possibility that Sukuna Gojo would walk away free. Nobody said anything throughout the trip. Fushimi, glancing in the rear mirror every once in a while, could swear that Ueno looked nervous. And he tried to not feel satisfied, because surely he was above this kind of petty thinking. Right?

 

Only upon arrival did Munakata realize that he needed to fill a file for Ueno to be able to access the restricted “cell”, the hospital room where Mishakuji and Gojo were kept while they too recovered from injuries that would have been mortal to normal people. Indeed, the doctors suspected that without the outright protection of the Colourless sanctum, Mishakuji would have died on the spot.

 

Fushimi couldn’t quite blame Ueno for that one. She has wanted her own dog to survive and that has apparently been a close call as well. That she wasn’t able to manipulate her sanctum to only protect one Colourless clansman was, according to Munakata, perfectly understandable. He has claimed, not that Fushimi has asked, that even he wasn’t sure to be able to do this.

 

‘Ah, Fushimi, why don’t you go ahead while we fill in the paperwork?’ Munakata suggested. ‘If the prisoners are too lively, we might not let Miss Ueno to stay alone with them, so please go and verify that for us, will you? They’re on the third and last floor, room number six,’ he told Fushimi.

 

‘Third floor, room six,’ Fushimi muttered and turned around to leave. He heard Munakata asking Ueno about her birthday and parents’ names for the file. Her answer was cut by the lift door closing, not that Fushimi cared to hear it. If he wanted information about Mai Ueno it was still freely available from various sources and until the Colourless King decided to, at the very least, quit university, it would remain available.

 

Maybe not “freely”, he amended. He had to hack the university database, but it was so easy it didn’t even count as hacking. Come to think of it, they had all that info, so why was Munakata playing the game of asking her? Was it enough to fool Ueno’s emotion-reading ability? Fushimi wished he knew exactly what the extent of her abilities was. Could she, in any way, read thoughts? Or did she have to guess them from reading emotions? Could she even guess them?

 

There were no guards in the corridor on the third floor. Fushimi frowned.

 

Briskly, he crossed the distance from the lift to door marked with a six and turned the handle, not expecting it to actually move. It did. And Fushimi went through the whole motion of opening the door before the instincts kicked in and he grabbed the hilt of his sword even before looking up.

 

Five pairs of eyes blinked at him in surprise. Fushimi blinked back, brain swimming in thick, sticky syrup of confusion.

 

‘Cute Mr Uptight,’ a young woman with dark brown hair exclaimed after a moment of tense silence passed. Fushimi knew her name only because he has gone to Ikebukuro to talk with her: Erika Karisawa. He knew also that he was definitely never going to get along with her or her partner, Walker Yumasaki, who was also in the room. Neither of them should be in Mishakuji’s and Gojo’s room. Then again, it clearly wasn’t the correct room, because the patients on the two beds were Kuroh Yatogami and Misaki Yata, the latter with a thick layer of bandages around his head.

 

It was the head-wound, Fushimi thought absently. The data about the injuries of both men, disgruntled to have been put in the same recovery room, crossed his mind without any conscious thought of his part. Apart from the cut on his head, Misaki had a broken arm, broken ribs and a twisted ankle, and many cuts which had surely been inflicted by the green scythe. His report, which he has apparently given freely to Munakata, stated that after hearing the shot he has thought killed Fushimi he didn’t remember anything that happened.

 

‘Is that your new nickname, Fushimi?’ Izumo Kusanagi laughed, amused. He was sitting in a wheelchair next to Yata’s bed. Absent-mindedly, Fushimi remembered his injuries: for some reason Mishakuji mainly wounded his legs, slicing them so badly that the doctors took five hours to sew them back together. He looked well enough, as far as Fushimi could say. Better than the other two, who were still paler than usual, but then again, his injuries have been less life-threatening.

 

Then a thought struck Fushimi: there was no reason for him to be there.

 

He turned around on his heel, ready to march out of the room and close the door. He wouldn’t slam it of course. Not only it would display his anger, but also it was not their thought that the captain has given him the wrong hospital room number. It was difficult to believe that Munakata would make such a mistake, but it didn’t matter: he and Ueno should still be downstairs, filling the damned paperwork.

 

‘You gotta be kidding me, you damned asshole,’ Misaki Yata growled angrily. Hearing his voice made Fushimi freeze on the spot. All thoughts disappeared from his mind, making plenty of space for anger and guilt. ‘I thought you were fucking dead, do you understand that? Why do you think I gave that annoying King of yours my report? Because I knew you’d read it. Don’t you think you owe me at least a visit, damn it?’ he asked. Fushimi gritted his teeth.

 

‘That was it,’ he said stiffly, not turning back. ‘I’m glad you’re well,’ he added and took a step out, but Misaki obviously wasn’t done.

 

‘Go on, run like a coward you are,’ he growled. ‘But before you go I want you to know that Kamamoto has told me everything.’

 

Fushimi felt the blood in his veins turn into ice. There was no doubt in his mind as to what Misaki meant by “everything” and the memories from that day came back like a wave of tsunami. For a split of a second, he could feel the disbelief at what the Reds were suggesting: that Misaki was dead, that Misaki has gone blood-lust crazy and charged like a deranged animal. He could even imagine that happen. And he could imagine Sukuna Gojo slice through the reckless vanguard of HOMRA.

 

Back then he has imagined that scene and he could see it again. And even if he knew now that Misaki was alright, the memory of that overwhelming anguish made him choke on his own breath now. Because he has never meant for things to end like that. Because he and Misaki were supposed to compete and bicker and pretend they didn’t care about each other and they were supposed to remain best friends. Because Misaki was Fushimi’s only friend even now, after years in HOMRA and Sceptre 4.

 

‘So you can stop pretending that you don’t care, Saruhiko,’ Misaki said, his voice uncharacteristically quiet. ‘Because me too, I want to make sure that you are alright,’ he added.

 

The words pulled him out of his memories, but at the same time, they annoyed him more than anything else. Because they were never supposed to talk like that. Misaki wasn’t supposed to be this kind of caring person. Definitely not in front of others! Fushimi fisted his hands, swirling on the spot.

 

‘Well I am alright,’ he gritted out, walking back into the room, ignoring the door behind him slowly closing. ‘You’re the only one stupid enough to do something like that thinking that a filthy traitor has met the end he deserved. Isn’t that what you were thinking just about the whole time while I was in the Jungle?’ he hissed, knowing that he was being unfair. But he didn’t want to deal with Misaki’s sadness and pain. He didn’t even want to deal with his own. And he knew he could spark anger back in the stupid hothead.

 

‘Says the idiot who has collapsed to the ground when he stupidly thought when I was dead,’ Misaki shot right back, fire blazing in his eyes at having his confession of sorts dismissed so carelessly. ‘At least I did something,’ he pointed out.

 

‘You little,’ Fushimi growled. Before he knew he has moved, he was leaning over Misaki, the front of Misaki’s hospital gown tightly clasped in his fist. He had to consciously stop himself from raising the other hand, because damn it, Misaki was still recovering from almost dying and-

 

He looked so pale and vulnerable. The sharp gaze of his hazel eyes softened as they looked at Fushimi, almost pleading for Fushimi to close the remaining distance between them. And gods, how Fushimi wanted that as well! There were witnesses, yes, but was that a reason enough to deny Misaki? Misaki who has suffered so much for him, who was now raising his good hand, fingers touching Fushimi’s cheek gently.

 

He felt lips against his, warm and pliant, before he fully realized that he has given into that wild desire raging in his chest. Without hesitation, Misaki kissed back and for a blissful moment nothing else mattered. The world melted away, taking all worries and sadness and the conflicting interests with it.

 

Then, as sudden as the strange feeling has started, it disappeared and the world snapped back into place. Fushimi realized what he was doing and jumped away as though Misaki’s lips were burning him. Wait, wait- Misaki’s lips?! Why was he even- Why did he-

 

He tripped over his own feet, but Walker Yumasaki caught him before he fell. And Fushimi slowly became aware of the surroundings. He saw first the shell-shocked expression on Misaki’s face, then Kusanagi who looked torn between being amused and completely shocked as well. Then he heard clapping and turned to the other bed in the hospital room. Yatogami appeared as scandalised as Fushimi felt, but that woman-

 

‘Now, now, isn’t it better than fighting and shouting?’ Erika Karisawa asked with a brilliant smile on her face and stopped clapping her hands. Walker stepped away from Fushimi, who was anyway able to stand on his own and was frowning at the young woman. Something was not right, wasn’t it? Didn’t he see their enemies, that chaotic day, dropping their fight to make out?

 

A slow suspicion forming as he watched Erika’s gleeful expression made a shudder run down Fushimi’s spine. Was that sudden change of heart her doing? He could still feel the touch of Misaki’s lips tingling on his and it was sickening that it didn’t make him feel sick. This wasn’t his normal behaviour by far! With the corner of his eye he saw the Black Dog frown at the woman as well, before adopting a look of resignation.

 

‘I told you that you shouldn’t use this on people like that,’ the Black Dog spoke in his usual serious and polite tone. Erika’s smile changed into a pout. Fushimi processed his words, realizing they were a confirmation of his suspicions. ‘It is disrespectful of others to force them into situations they have no desire to find themselves in. Exercising restraint-’

 

‘What the hell have you done to me?’ Fushimi yelled, jumping closer to Yatogami’s bed. He vaguely registered that Misaki has shouted at the same time, both of them efficiently cutting short what would probably be a long and boring lecture from Yatogami. Not that Erika appeared grateful for the disruption. No. Instead, she smirked at Fushimi.

 

‘You’re too uptight, really,’ she announced. ‘Was kissing Misaki not enough?’ she asked and the threat was clear. As the Black Dog paled abruptly, Fushimi stepped back in haste. He didn’t want to find out how it felt to kiss another man in such a short- actually ever. And neither did he want to know whether her ability was pairing two closest males or she could choose her targets with more care.

 

‘If you think it’s bad, you should know that this is more less her argument every time we argue now,’ Walker grumbled. Erika laughed and wrapped an arm around his shoulders, gleefully pointing out that she hasn’t yet made good on her threats, so he should not complain.

 

‘Come now, Fushimi,’ Kusanagi called out. Fushimi turned to see HOMRA’s second-in-command, who looked far too cheerful. ‘Take a chair and spend some time with us, tell us how things are going,’ he suggested. Fushimi scowled.

 

‘You don’t seriously expect me to stay after what has just happened,’ he pointed out. Misaki spoke at the same time, something about how he suddenly didn’t feel like being too close to Saruhiko. The smile on Kusanagi’s face grew.

 

‘I think some catching up from you two is long overdue,’ he said, the serious tone not consistent with his expression. ‘If you don’t want to do it in public I can go away and you can pull closed the curtain between the two beds, although I’m sure neither of you wants a quiet one on one right now,’ he laughed at his own joke. Fushimi and Misaki scowled.

 

‘Anyway, we were talking about the manga,’ Erika said enthusiastically by the other bed, obviously no longer interested by Fushimi and Misaki. Fushimi hated how grateful he felt for it ‘We brought you some more of Black Butler, since you have already read the first three books.’

 

Seriously, Fushimi didn’t care, although it was amusing that the “Black” Dog would read a manga about a “Black” Butler. Whatever that was. It was not amusing enough to make him stay and, from Misaki’s expression, he knew that the only thing stopping Misaki from crossing his arms in a proper pout was the cast on his broken arm.

 

‘Whatever, Kusanagi,’ he muttered. ‘You can’t stop me from leaving so spare your breath,’ he pointed out.

 

‘Here’s where you’re wrong Saruhiko,’ Kusanagi replied, his voice as gleeful as Erika Karisawa’s has been moments ago. Well, not quite as gleeful, but close enough for Fushimi to get a very bad feeling about the situation. ‘Take a seat and have a chat with us or I’m going to forward this photo to your boss.’

 

With those words, Kusanagi showed Fushimi the photo of him and Misaki kissing. That damned- That-

 

‘Fine,’ he growled, gracelessly admitting defeat.


	21. Chapter 21

**Chapter 21**

A little bit less than two weeks after being freed from the Green clan and fighting Yukari to death, although neither of them has died in the end, Kuroh Yatogami was finally released from the hospital. For a normal human being, assuming they would have even survived which he wasn’t completely certain of, less than two weeks to recover from the wounds Yukari has inflicted would have been impossible. However, between the influence of the Colourless sanctum and the efforts of the Gold clan’s doctors, Kuroh considered it has taken long enough, especially when he thought about the company that has been forced onto him.

 

The new Colourless clansmen would have been enough for him to handle, with their bizarre interests and the utter and complete lack of respect for their King. They were nice though and he appreciated the effort Erika and Walker made to keep him occupied in the hospital. If it was only them, Kuroh wouldn’t have minded so much, but he was stuck in the same hospital room as HOMRA’s Misaki Yata and that meant an unending line of visitors, all of them loud and rude and sometimes thoroughly annoying. The worst was, of course, when Sceptre 4’s Fushimi came visiting, because he and Yata wouldn’t stop arguing about the stupidest things. Unless Erika was there as well.

 

Of course, when she was there it meant they were talking about manga, so Kuroh had mixed feelings about it. He had mixed feelings about leaving now as well, because he was moving in with his new King. About a week earlier, Mai Ueno has asked whether he had a place to go after he was released from the hospital. Clearly, he couldn’t go back to the Ashinaka High School. She seemed to have expected a negative answer, because she barely paused before suggesting that she finds a two-bedroom flat where they could live, at least until Kuroh decided what he wanted to do.

 

What he “wanted to do” was one of the big topics with Mai Ueno. She visited almost every day, even if most often it was for a short while, despite her apparently busy schedule of arranging a break in her studies with the university, discussing with the leader of Dollars and helping Munakata with the rehabilitation of Yukari Mishakuji and Sukuna Gojo. Almost every time she visited, she had a different question.

 

Did he want to live in Ikebukuro? She wanted, but they could move a bit away if he preferred to be somewhere else. She made a face when he said he would follow his King wherever his King wanted to go. Was there anything he wanted to bring back from home? She has arranged for that pause in her studies, so they could go back to his old village for a while if he wanted, shocking Kuroh by the immediate assumption that “home” was the village and not Ashinaka High School. Actually that was now agreed for, for as soon as he was fully healed: they were going to stay for a while away from the bustle of the city. She even asked whether he wanted to move out of Tokyo, but he could see she wanted to stay, so it didn’t count as a real question.

 

Then there were the difficult questions. Things he has never considered before. What did he want to do afterwards? There was no clear “mission” for the days and weeks to come, maybe even months. Would he like to study? He has never considered that option before. There could be issues, she said, but depending on what he wanted, things could be arranged. Did he want to work? He has done some odd jobs when they were looking for Shiro, in what felt like a different life, but he could tell his King didn’t mean that king of work. She has even found some dojo where he could try to teach. It would not be a problem, because the dojo was owned by a member of Dollars and Kuroh was now also a member of Dollars and Dollars helped each other out.

 

That was another thing he had mixed feelings about. In his ears “gang” rhymed with HOMRA and “online” with Jungle. And yet he suddenly was a member of a gang, with an account on their server and an online nickname of “demon and butler”, after that manga Erika and Walker have basically force fed him as soon as he regained consciousness for long enough to read a page or two. Well, in all honesty, it wasn’t a bad one and although his King claimed there were no hidden meanings to all the mentions of the “Black Butler”, Kuroh thought the idea of being somebody his King could count on always and in any sort of situation was not bad.

 

In any case, it was an easy solution, compared to all the questions Mai Ueno asked. Entering into the flat she has found for them in record time and moved into just the previous day, he wondered what it would be like to live with her.

 

‘You have to excuse the mess,’ she said sheepishly as they walked in straight into the main area that was going to be their living and dining room, with a kitchenette in one corner. Rather than leaning on the walls when the effort of moving after the hospital stay got too much, Kuroh has borrowed crutches, but he wasn’t really familiar with using them yet, which slowed them down the entire way.

 

‘I did my best last night, with the guys, to put the furniture as it should be, but there was no time to unpack any boxes anymore,’ his King excused herself needlessly, while Kuroh looked around. The room was simple, with three windows on one wall and three doors on the other and his King turned to open the first one. ‘I put a bed in for you here, but we can exchange if you prefer the other room. They’re both more or less the same size and they both have built-in wardrobes,’ she continued, walking up to the second door and opening it.

 

Kuroh had no intention of going into a woman’s room, much less into his King’s room: it would be highly improper. So he only said that the first room was ok and his King quickly mentioned the bathroom behind the third door, before inviting him into his new bedroom and coming in after him, putting the duffel bag, which he mainly had to hide Kotowari on their way from the hospital to the flat, on the floor.

 

‘Once you’re in a better shape, we can go to find some furniture you like and of course we can paint the walls a different colour if you want. I mean, it might only be temporary, but of course I’m not kicking you out. I’ve been thinking that it’s nice to have a flat mate for a while now,’ the young woman, older than him by a few years all the same, babbled. Kuroh wondered if she was nervous about this situation. He wondered if he should say something that would calm her down, but nothing came to his mind.

 

Master Ichigen would surely know, he thought, a pang of loss and regret making him wince. The steady flow of Mai Ueno’s talking ceased immediately and Kuroh too late remembered that the new Colourless King could sense the emotions of people around her. He looked at her to apologize, because he shouldn’t be thinking “master” about Ichigen Miwa anymore, but she spoke first.

 

‘You must be tired,’ she said with a soft smile. Was she purposefully misinterpreting his grimace? ‘I sure am. I’ve been running this whole day, so I’ll just take a really quick shower first, alright? You can refresh yourself afterwards and then I’ll see if we have something to make as dinner. We should, because Kadota has been shopping for us today in the morning, but I have no idea what he bought.’

 

She was gone before he could reply and, with nothing else to do, Kuroh sat down on the bed and looked around. The walls were white and clean and there was a dark curtain pulled over the window, so that nobody could look inside now that the lights were on. Apart from the bed, the duffel bag and the wardrobe there was literally nothing in the room, but he didn’t even have the time to grow bored before his King was back, holding something in her hand.

 

‘I found it when I was packing,’ she said, handing him the thing she brought. It was a modest sized book. ‘I got it once, in high school, but I think you’ll appreciate it more than me. So I guess it’s a sort of welcome gift,’ she explained, although it didn’t explain anything at all. He blinked, surprised, before finding back his manners.

 

‘Thank you very much, you didn’t need-’ he never finished speaking, because his eyes finally caught up with the elegantly calligraphed title and author on the cover:

 

“Three loops around a word” by Ichigen Miwa.

 

For a moment, he could only stare at the cover, stunned. For a moment, the room, his King, the world around disappeared. Then he blinked and his thoughts picked up like a tornado, rushing one after another. Could it have been “his” Ichigen Miwa? Kuroh has never heard about any books, never seen his master prepare or proofread one. He couldn’t remember anything like this, but really, why would Mai Ueno give him this book otherwise?

 

There was a short author’s note on the back cover: “I dream sometimes. The dreams are so vivid I can’t help but write.” On the inside, there was the publication date, almost two years before Kuroh was even born, which was good enough explanation as to why he has never heard about the book or seen one being prepared. There was also a list of words, each only a single kanji, presumably about which the author has written his poems. And when Kuroh found “error” and “reason” beautifully calligraphed on the page, he knew without any more doubts that the author of the book was his adoptive father. Then he also saw “black” and “violet” among the words and he held his breath for a moment. Just how far ahead has Ichigen Miwa seen?

 

If he has known, even before Kuroh was born, that he would come to him, did it mean that Kuroh’s family has always been meant to die?

 

The last kanji among the list could be read as “after one’s death”. It would also simply mean “later”, but somehow Kuroh knew the first was the correct meaning. Rather than changing the page to find out, he snapped the book closed. The poems would clarify everything, but he wanted time to read them and contemplate, rather than rushing between things.

 

When he went out of the bedroom, Mai Ueno was already in the kitchenette, clothes changed and wet hair piled up into a messy bun. She turned when he approached, smiling and telling him that the bathroom was all his and that she has left some clothes for change, if he wanted to get rid of the hospital smell fully. He acknowledged it with a bow, clumsy due to the crutches, and went to the bathroom.

 

Cleaning oneself with unhealed wounds was awkward, although there has been great progress in the last few days. Having a young woman dress one’s wounds was even more so. Therefore, he took his time after his King has left him again to finish dressing up. Enough time for Mai to be finished with the food and waiting for him at the table, much to his chagrin. He immediately apologized and sat down opposite from her.

 

‘Happy birthday, Kuroh,’ his King replied to his apology. She outright laughed at what must have been a completely shocked expression on his face. ‘Don’t tell me you forgot! Especially since it’s the important one: your twentieth birthday. The guys say “happy birthday” as well, by the way. We thought you might prefer a quiet evening today, so I just cooked what I hope is a nice dinner. Instead, we already decided that we should go out for a celebration on the Coming of Age Day, since it’s conveniently soon,’ she added. Kuroh blinked.

 

‘What?’ he asked. His memories lazily provided him with images from a huge party thrown in the village every time somebody turned twenty, which happened perhaps twice or three times in all the years Kuroh has lived there.

 

It felt like a century separated those happy years from the present, when in reality it has barely been two years. He has barely turned eighteen when Ichigen Miwa finally lost his battle against the illness that has been eating on him for a long time. He has spent months in solitude, searching for the new Colourless King only to find another. Back then he has thought he found his new place, but the happiness only lasted a few days, before Shiro lied and left Kuroh.

 

Like everybody always had. Back then, he thought that nothing could hurt as much as the death of one’s King. He went along with Neko’s search, because it gave him something to do, just like searching for the new Colourless King has helped him get over Ichigen Miwa’s death. He wanted to believe that Shiro would be alright, that he would come back to them as Neko always said he would. Back then, when Yukari has completely overpowered him, just before Kuroh lost consciousness, he heard Neko desperately crying for Shiro. For a split of a second, he has thought that Shiro would magically appear. And he found out that being abandoned was a far worse pain than losing a King.

 

‘Are you alright?’ he heard and realized he must have been silent for a long while. His new King was looking at him with a worried expression. ‘You know, I can’t pretend I understand how you feel, ability or not, but if you ever want to talk about it, or about anything else, don’t hesitate, alright?’ she asked, propping her chin on her hand, elbow on the table.

 

‘Thank you,’ he replied with some hesitation. It was a kind offer, but he couldn’t accept it just like that, could he? Because: ‘It would be impolite of me to burden my King with my problems. As a King you have many duties and matters that require your attention,’ he explained. Mai Ueno raised an eyebrow.

 

‘Isn’t it part of King’s duties to make sure their subjects are happy?’ she asked. He looked at her in surprise. ‘I mean, that’s what they taught me at school, about “normal” kings. I don’t know all that much about Kings nominated by the Dresden Slate. Captain Munakata provided me with some information, but I have no doubt it was written in such a way that it benefits him. He’s this kind of a sly guy,’ she paused and looking Kuroh straight in the eye. ‘I was actually hoping to learn from you,’ she added.

 

‘Ah, I’m not sure I’m-’

 

‘The Colourless King, the weakest of Kings has nonetheless the power to influence the other Kings, as perhaps the only being in the whole world,’ Mai Ueno didn’t let him express his doubts. ‘Ichigen Miwa found a balance between using his power for the good and not abusing it, at least that’s what I got from reading captain Munakata’s notes. You’re the one who knew him best.’

 

‘Is this the real reason why you risked going to the Green clan’s home base to get me?’ Kuroh asked as the thought occurred to him. Surprisingly, he wasn’t sure he minded if it was the case. After all, wasn’t he the blade of his master? His only reason of being was to help and protect the one he called a master. That was, at least, what he has always aimed to be even as he appreciated being the beloved son of Ichigen Miwa.

 

Mai Ueno grimaced.

 

‘I went down there with hope of gaining a formidable swordsman as well as a person well versed in this confusing world of Kings, Strains and superpowers. I will not insult you here by denying that,’ she admitted in a neutral tone. Kuroh nodded in understanding. ‘I want to make things perfectly clear. Back then I had no other reason to help you. I believed it wasn’t me who should do it, but Weismann, who has called himself your friend. Now, however, things are different. Now, for better or for worse, you have accepted to be my clansman and the least I could do was help you whenever you should need this help.’

 

‘I understand,’ he replied earnestly. He really did. ‘As your clansman, I will do everything in my power to help you. Be it my sword or my knowledge you need, you can always count on me,’ he paused, calculating: should he or should he not? He should: she would like it. Thus, he added, with a sardonic smile: ‘My Lord.’

 

His King looked at him in surprise for a full second before laughing out shortly.

 

‘Well then, will you be cooking from tomorrow on?’ she asked with a wicked smile and the intense atmosphere disappeared like a soap bubble.

 

‘I’ll have you know that I’m an excellent cook,’ he retorted, unable to completely stifle the pride he felt. It seemed like she hasn’t expected that answer, but she took it in a stride.

 

‘It is absolutely perfect, because I hate cooking,’ she admitted. She paused before starting to invent dishes she would like to eat, mixing in a few he recognized from the damned manga. And Kuroh thought that maybe living with a young woman didn’t need to be awkward. After all, she was first and foremost his King and that he was more than familiar with.

 

**The End**

**Author's Note:**

> Ueno Mai, according to “Behind the name”, can be written as: 上野 真愛  
> From Japanese 上 (ue) meaning "above, top, upper" and 野 (no) meaning "field, wilderness".  
> From Japanese 真 (ma) meaning "real, genuine" combined with 愛 (ai) meaning "love, affection".  
> Yes, it’s on purpose ;)


End file.
